


The Return

by hrtiu



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Healing, I worked really hard to make this OC not suck I promise, Mostly just about Loki, Post-Infinity War, Redemption, Slow Burn, Trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-24
Updated: 2019-04-24
Packaged: 2020-01-25 18:03:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 102,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18579736
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hrtiu/pseuds/hrtiu
Summary: Six months after what came to be known as "The Snap," the half of humanity that melted away suddenly reappeared, without reason or explanation. A hospital in New York deals with one of the returned, a dark-haired man with no wallet, no phone, and no form of identification. No one knows who he is, and he's not talking. *NOTE* this story was written after Infinity War and before Endgame, so it does not follow the Endgame canon.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t even know what this is. I came out of Infinity War with so many feelings, and I just had to write something. I kept wondering, if there is anything next for Loki, what is it? This is not a one-shot, and there will be more chapters. I really hope you enjoy!

Six months after half of humanity disappeared in what later came to be known as “The Snap,” the victims of that bizarre event suddenly reappeared. It happened just as the world was finally beginning to right itself from that traumatic event—just as people began to accept that those who were missing were truly gone. Not that anyone could ever truly recover from something like that. Families torn in half, children lost, friends, colleagues, regular faces about town. Half the world’s heads of states, half of its business executives, half of its doctors, half of its children, half of its everything—all gone. The world would never be the same, but it had finally begun to reach some kind of functioning state again when just as inexplicably as they left the earth, all of the missing people returned.

The hospital was very busy that day. Thankfully, people reappeared in mostly sensible places. Nobody materialized thousands of feet in the air, or directly in front of oncoming traffic, or anything like that. Still, the reappearances were abrupt and disorienting, and sometimes led to mishaps directly afterwards. One way or another, a decent number of the returned ended up in the hospital, where nurses like Alice Wakefield helped them get sorted out.

For Alice that day had been filled with taking peoples’ names and information, trying to find empty beds or chairs, contacting family members, and sorting out the people who actually needed urgent medical attention from those who were just looking for a place to regroup. For several weeks the hospital was in chaos, having accidentally become the primary meeting place for families seeking out their missing loved ones.

Some people were ready to get back into the swing of things just as soon as they rematerialized. Esther Diaz, another nurse and Alice’s supervisor, headed right back to the hospital the same day she returned, the saintly woman recognizing immediately that the hospital would be overburdened. Other people took longer to readjust. Whatever had happened to them had been harrowing, and some patients wouldn’t tell the nurses their personal information, or couldn’t even bring themselves to speak, for days after the event.

Michael was one of those people who took longer to recover. Michael probably wasn’t his real name, but Alice called him that because his slicked-back dark hair reminded her of Michael Corleone, and the name stuck. From the time a paramedic team brought him into the hospital, Michael hadn’t spoken a single word, to anybody. And while other patients gradually opened up, or were found by their families, Michael stayed in his hospital room, silent and haunted.

Two months after The Return, the hospital had mostly returned to normal. That is to say, most of the people who had disappeared during The Snap had now found their way back to their homes. Obviously no one on earth was quite the same as they were pre-Snap. Alice made her rounds, and for the first time in weeks, the majority of her patients were people brought in for routine medical assistance. She helped with some stitches, a bad flu, a broken leg, and one small child who had accidentally stapled their finger before she went to check on Michael.

“Good morning, Mikey, how’s it going?” Alice said, using her best chipper nurse voice. He didn’t respond, of course.

Alice walked over to his bedside and checked his chart. Everything seemed normal. She turned her head over towards Mike and sighed. He looked just like he always did: wan and tired, his sunken features highlighting his high cheekbones. His eyes were open, but did not focus on anything. His stringy, shoulder-length black hair was cut in a style that needed attention to look good, and he certainly hadn’t put any effort into maintaining it. In a spurt of dark humor, Alice thought to herself that he rather looked like a vampire, or perhaps a well-preserved zombie.

“Let’s go for a walk, huh?” she said, moving to the other side of the bed and pulling the covers back. With a little encouragement, he moved his long legs off the bed and set his feet on the floor. Alice put her shoulder under his arm, and helped him up. Michael’s responsiveness to instructions and physical queues was about the limit of his interactions, but at least it meant he was relatively easy to move around.

Alice led Michael out of his room and into the hallway, where they often did laps around the ward to help Michael get a little bit of activity into his day. Today, though, Alice led him outside of the ward to a terrace on the third floor, where they could get some sunshine and privacy. It was a lovely spring day, and some of the trees on the hospital grounds below had already started flowering. Alice made sure Michael was steady on his feet before moving out from under his shoulder and standing in front of him.

“Michael,” she said, and his eyes, which had been staring off into the distance, flicked towards her. That was a good sign.

“Now, I know Michael probably isn’t your real name, unless I got really lucky with my nickname. Do you want to tell me your real name?” Alice said.

He just kept staring, his thin lips showing no sign of movement.

“It would be really helpful for us to know your name, Michael. I feel bad using this fake name all the time.”

More silence. His light blue eyes seemed to bore into hers, and despite the hospital gown he somehow managed to exude an aura of cool authority. It was a little intimidating, to be honest.

“What about family? Do you have any family? Anyone we can let know you’re here?”

At that, the corner of his mouth twitched. At least, Alice thought it did—it had been the tiniest of movements. Still, it was the most anybody had gotten out of him in months.

“Yeah? You must have some family. Maybe nearby? How about… How about you write down their names?” she said, pulling a notepad and pen out of her scrubs, “Or an address? Or phone number?”

She held the notepad and pen out to Michael, but he made no motion to grab them. His eyes didn’t even focus on them. His pale blue eyes continued to look at her, until they gradually started to slide away again. She was losing him.

Alice took him by the hand and led him over to a bench on the far side of the terrace. She sat down next to him, then angled herself so she could face him.

“Look, Michael. You’ve been here for two months already. Physically, you’re fine. As a hospital, there’s not much more we can do for you here. Because of the… event, we’ve been allowing people to stay here longer than usual, but we can’t keep you here indefinitely. My superiors said they will have to discharge you by the end of the week,” Alice said, willing him to understand his predicament.

Michael looked at her for a long moment, then turned his head back towards the hospital grounds.

“If you don’t want to talk, you can just nod yes or no, how about that?” Alice said, hearing the desperation build in her voice. She had tried all of these tactics—pen and paper, nodding and shaking, etc—before, but she refused to give up. She did not want to imagine what would happen to Michael if he were left on his own.

“Do you remember your name?” she asked. She waited a generous amount of time for him to shake or nod his head, but he kept looking straight forward.

“Do you have family? ...Do you know where you’re from? ...We’re in New York right now, do you know where that is?”

Nothing. Defeated, Alice hung her head and she forced the water she could already feel building behind her eyes to halt, absolutely refusing to cry. She knew the tears weren’t just about her current predicament. Everyone had been pushed to their emotional limits lately, and it wasn’t uncommon for people in the hospital to break down. In general, people were understanding of these kinds of breakdowns. What did you expect when half of the world suddenly went missing? Still, Alice hadn’t lost as much as most people, and she didn’t want Michael to see her frustration.

Alice decided to focus on something productive instead of the roadblocks. She wracked her brain for any clues they might have as to Michael’s identity.

When he’d arrived at the hospital, he’d been wearing an odd dark blue leather jacket of sorts, with matching pants. The shoulders and arms of the jacket were padded, and Alice figured they were probably for riding a motorcycle, although he hadn’t had a helmet with him. He’d also had a yellow-blue blanket. It almost looked like a cape, but Alice figured it couldn’t possibly have been a cape, unless he’d just escaped from a movie set or convention. Other than the jacket, pants, blanket, and a pair of shiny black boots, he’d had nothing. No wallet, no cellphone, no money, no form of identification. Perhaps he’d been a courier, perhaps he’d been a professional racer, perhaps he’d just owned a motorcycle as a hobby. There was no way of knowing, and virtually no other clues. He looked like he might be in his mid-thirties, but he also had the kind of face that could be a lot older, so Alice didn’t even have a good sense of his age. He was a mystery that refused to be solved.

Michael waited as she stewed, his features betraying no impatience or frustration or any emotion at all. Eventually, they stood and walked around the terrace a little more before Alice took Michael back to his room. Esther caught her eye as she helped him into his room.

“Any luck?” Esther asked.

Alice just shook her head, and Esther raised her eyebrows with a sad half-smile. They were both worried about their mystery patient. It wasn’t uncommon for homeless people to end up in the hospital, and it was always difficult discharging them knowing they had no place to go, but somehow this felt different. Michael had been disintegrated, then brought back to life, and it seemed no one cared.

\---

The next day, Alice decided not to question him any more. She just talked. She’d been using Michael as a sounding board for her problems for some time now, because her shift was stressful and all most patients wanted to do was ask her questions. There were two other beds besides Michael’s in his room, but right now they were empty, leaving only Michael. It was a relief to Alice to have a place where she could let all of the things she was thinking seep out of her. If nothing else, Michael was an excellent listener.

Today, she must have been feeling morose, because she started talking about The Snap.

“After it happened, a lot of people said it was the Second Coming. You know, how in Revelations the good Christians are supposed to be disappeared into Heaven? But I always knew that couldn’t be it. And I’m not just saying that because I didn’t disappear!” she said with a laugh.

“It’s just that too many bad people disappeared. The Snap didn’t differentiate. It took rich people and poor people, the saints along with the truly awful. I knew it wasn’t the Second Coming from the start,” she said, as she encouraged him to take one last bite of his yogurt.

Although he was physically perfectly capable, Michael didn’t do anything without some kind of prompting or encouragement, which was why Alice was helping him eat his dinner. That chore accomplished, Alice took the tray away for him and started to take his blood pressure, still chattering away.

“Of course, I can’t blame people for seeking out the explanation that makes the most sense to them. When you lose someone you love it’s nice to think that it’s because they were such a good person, and that they’re in Heaven now. I can’t judge, because I wasn’t affected as much as most people.”

Michael sat up in bed, hands crossed in his lap, and listened. At least, Alice thought he was most likely listening. She was probably in his room a little longer than she needed to be, given that he didn’t really need much medical attention, but she was having a long shift and needed a little brain break.

Rob, one of the nurse assistants in the ward, popped his head in the door.

“Hey there, Alice. How’s Mike doing today? Is he ready for his walk?” he asked.

Alice nodded.

“Yep, everything looks normal. See if you can get him to walk a little longer today, on his own if possible,” Alice said, and Rob nodded in understanding. Everyone knew he was going to be discharged soon.

Alice just hoped he’d be able to make it on his own.

\---

On Friday night, Alice arrived to her empty apartment at fifteen minutes to midnight. Her apartment was further from the hospital than she’d like, and demolished way too high a percent of her paycheck, but she’d never been able to bring herself to move. She knew she didn’t need the extra bedroom anymore, but moving felt too much like admitting defeat, so she swallowed the hefty rent check each month and kept going. She threw her keys on the counter of her small kitchen, and almost walked right past the phone with its blinking messages light blaring in her face.

Alice only knew of one person who left messages on her landline anymore. She took a deep breath, reminded herself of her social responsibilities, and played the messages.

_“Alice, it’s Barb. Just wanted to check up on you. Have you seen Carrie and Jim yet? You should go visit them! Maybe just take a month off! Call me back.”_

_“Alice, it’s Barb. I’ve been seeing on the news how things are getting so much better in New York! I was wondering how things are at the hospital. Call me back, please!”_

_“Alice, it’s Barb. Call me back.”_

_“Alice, it’s Barb. Just calling to hear how you’re doing. I bought a bunch of oranges on sale at the market yesterday, and wanted to drop by this weekend to drop some off. Hope to see you soon!”_

Alice deleted the messages one by one. Her mother-in-law was nothing if not persistent. Alice appreciated her concern, although sometimes she wished Barb would give her some more space.

It wasn’t that Alice didn’t want company. She just didn’t want to have to answer any questions. She thought of the friends she’d had when she was in college—the ones who knew when to ask her about her problems and when to distract her with something else. She’d lost contact with her college friends long ago, and they mostly lived back on the West Coast, where Alice had gone to school. Still, maybe she could reach out to them. It would be nice to have that again.

\---

Saturday was the day Michael was slated for discharge. Alice arrived at the hospital feeling wrung out and exhausted. She’d had a difficult time sleeping the night before, her mind going back to Michael over and over again, looking for some puzzle piece that would make all the other pieces fit together. She wondered if maybe she should take some time off, like Barb had suggested. Nursing was a taxing profession, both mentally and physically, and her overinvestment in Michael was probably a sign that she was burning out. She couldn’t afford to be so affected by one patient.

She went about her shift as normal, forcing her mind away from Michael any time it ventured his direction. Eventually, however, the time came to discharge him, and she could avoid him no longer.

Alice, Esther, and Dr. Minwari met up in Michael’s room to explain the process to him.

“Hello, Michael! Long time no see!” Dr. Minwari said. She hadn’t seen Michael in a while, because he hadn’t truly needed medical attention for quite some time.

“I’ve just gone over your charts and talked about your situation with Esther, and it looks like you have a clean bill of health! We’re going to discharge you today, which means you can go home. How does that sound?” Dr. Minwari said.

Predictably, Michael did not respond. An awkward air filled the room.

“Michael…” Esther began with some hesitation, “you no longer need to stay in the hospital. Are you sure you don’t have a friend or family member who can come pick you up? You can even stay a couple of days longer if we know someone is on their way to come get you.”

Michael simply remained in his customary pose: sat up in his bed, face forward, hands crossed in his lap.

“Alice,” Esther said, huffing in frustration. “Are you sure he hasn’t mentioned anyone? We really don’t have anyone we can contact?”

“I don’t… nobody’s…. He’s just…” Alice stuttered, trying to get the words out.

_There isn’t anybody. He’s on his own. I have no idea who he is. Why is that so hard to say?_

“-Actually someone called last night,” Alice found herself saying.

Esther and Dr. Minwari turned to her in surprise.

“Really?” Esther said, “who was it?”

“Um… I think.. He said he was Michael’s brother. Er.. yeah, that’s the crazy thing. His name really is Michael. I guess that’s why he’s so good at responding to it,” Alice said with a nervous laugh, just as interested in and uncertain of what she was going to say next as Dr. Minwari and Esther.

“Well, that’s unexpected,” said Dr. Minwari.

“Yeah, totally. So, uh, I talked to the brother. His name is Fredo… Fred,” she quickly corrected, thinking that too much _The Godfather_ would be overly suspicious. “Anyway, Fred lives in Los Angeles, and he said he won’t be able to get here for at least a week. So I offered to take care of Michael until Fred arrives.”

Esther’s eyebrows shot up.

“You offered to take care of him?” Esther said incredulously.

_I offered to take care of him? Oh shit, I think I did._

“Yes. Um, I know it’s unusual, but I don’t think we can keep him another week, and he doesn’t have a place to stay.”

Dr. Minwari’s eyebrows furrowed, a look of dissatisfaction shadowing her face.

“This is highly unusual. I know that we’ve been giving patients returned from The Snap special treatment, and bending some of the rules around here, but this seems a little over the top,” Dr. Minwari said.

“I know that. But… But once he’s discharged, Michael can do as he pleases. And I don’t think the hospital has much business telling me who I can and cannot allow into my home,” Alice said, surprised at her own audaciousness, and a little worried about what kind of trouble she might soon find herself in.

Esther’s eyebrows raised even higher.

“Alice, we’re not trying to threaten you or anything. If this is what you’ve decided to do, you can do it. Just, you know, make sure it doesn’t interfere with your work.” Esther said.

“All right. Great,” Alice said, some of the adrenaline starting to bleed from her body. “So… I’ll come pick him up at the end of my shift.”

They worked through the details of the discharge, and Dr. Minwari talked at Michael a little more, summarizing his symptoms (inactivity, muteness), any required medications (none), and any necessary follow-up treatment (perhaps psychological counselling). Alice assured them that she would pass on the information to “Fred.” The entire time, Michael showed no reaction to any discussion of his future, apparently content to let the women talk at him without any input. Once they finally left his room, Alice turned back to get one more look at the stranger she had just saddled herself with. It might have been a trick of the light, but she could swear she saw his irises flick from her back to staring straight ahead.

Alice went about the rest of her shift in a daze, still not quite believing what she had done. She had just volunteered to take care of this mute, non-responsive patient, possibly for the rest of her life. There was no “Fred.” No one else was taking responsibility for him. What if she found she didn’t have the time or means to take care of him? What would she do? Would she kick him out? Take him back to the hospital? Would she need to pay for his medical bills? Even more worrisome, what if he was some kind of crazy person? Clearly, he was working through some mental issues, but what if he was dangerous?

Alice knew what she was doing didn’t make sense. She knew it was stupid. She told herself a million times to just admit that she had lied, or even just tell her superiors that Fred had called back and wasn’t going to take Michael in any more. There were ways to get out of this, and she knew she needed to take them.

And yet, when Esther pulled Alice aside to ask her if she was sure she knew what she was doing, Alice simply said “Yes.”

“Alice,” Esther said, pulling her a little closer and lowering her voice, “I know there’s no Fred. OK? You’re not a very good liar. The thing is, if you want to take him in and take care of him… That’s a noble, charitable thing. If you’re _sure_ that’s what you want to do, I won’t stop you. But… Just be careful, OK?”

Alice didn’t admit to anything, not wanting to incriminate herself. She just reassured her friend that she knew what she was doing, even as her brain screamed that she had no idea what she was doing.

“Thank you, Esther. I’ll be fine. I promise.”

Alice knew she could make no such promises.

Despite all her internal protestations, at the end of her shift, Alice found herself marching over to Michael’s room. Another nurse had brought his clothes up for him, and she helped him dress. Thankfully, with some prompting he was able to manage most of that on his own. He didn’t have any other possessions to collect, so Alice signed some paperwork, tucked his cape-blanket under her arm, and led Michael out of the hospital, ignoring the whispers of her colleagues as she passed by.

Normally, Alice took the bus to and from work, but she worried that it might be difficult to get Michael up and down the stairs, as well as pay for his fare. She couldn’t handle any more stress today, so she called a cab, and they spent the thirty-minute drive back to her apartment in silence. Alice had no idea what might be passing through Michael’s mind, but the trip home for her was mostly spent trying not to hyperventilate.

Once they reached her home, Alice helped Michael out of the car, and walked him slowly up the three flights of stairs to her apartment. It was dark already, and she fumbled at the door for her keys, the odd thought crossing through her mind that she hadn’t come home with anyone in years. Michael’s blank expression did not change as she showed him around her apartment: the living room, the kitchen with its little breakfast nook, the bathroom, her bedroom, and finally his. While he made no response, she could see his eyes roving around his new living space, and she imagined she saw some measure of curiosity in them.

“And this will be your room,” she said, showing him to the smaller bedroom at the end of the hall. “I’ll be right down the hall if you need me. When I have work you’ll be left to your own devices, but when I’m home I can make sure you get exercise and food, and hopefully you’ll improve. Eventually, we’ll be able to figure out who you are.”

Alice had kept the room prepared for any visitors for years, so thankfully it was already equipped with a bed, sheets, covers, and a nice, solid dresser. She walked Michael further into the room, and motioned for him to lie down. He started for the bed, then turned back towards Alice, startling her. It was the first indication he’d ever given of movement prompted by his own impulses. Michael reached for her hand, then slowly lifted it to his mouth, pressing a quick kiss to it before letting it drop. Alice’s eyes widened, and she turned to leave before even checking to make sure he was able to get into bed.

“Goodnight, Michael,” she said, then fled.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the reviews, follows, and favorites! They really help me stay motivated. I like writing this. I hope you like reading it. Just as an FYI, this story will focus more on Loki’s journey and future, and less on the specifics of what happened with Thanos and Co. Goodness knows I don’t want to have to be responsible for figuring out how to fix that mess, lol.

It took a while for Alice to get herself out of bed the next morning.

_What am I doing? What am I doing? What am I doing?_

Panicked thoughts circled her brain, and she let them run wild. Andy’s illness, along with the rigors of her profession, had taught her how to handle crazy situations like this. She gave herself fifteen minutes to freak out, then shut it all down. She didn’t have time or energy to waste.

Sunlight filtered through her window and onto her bed, and she focused on that as she dressed for the day. Normally, if she wasn’t working on Sunday she liked to go to church, but she had another shift on Monday, and there was a lot to do to get Michael situated. Alice put on jeans and a comfy t-shirt, and brushed her teeth. She pulled her brown hair into a ponytail, and debated for a moment whether or not to put on makeup. Now in her thirties, she felt a little more self-conscious of how weathered and tired her olive-complexioned face looked without any moisturizer or concealer on, but she had a lot to do today. She decided against any additional attempts at beautification, then made her way to Michael’s room.

Alice knocked on the door as a courtesy, even though she didn’t expect an answer. Alice came in, and Michael was already awake, sitting up in his bed as usual. It occurred to her at that moment that she had never actually seen him sleep. It was possible he never really did. The thought was unsettling.

“OK, we need to get you some clothes,” Alice said, taking in his blue motorcycle jacket. It did not look particularly comfortable to sleep in.

Michael turned his head towards Alice, but made no move to get up. Alice moved over to his side, taking him by the arm and helping him out of bed. Once he was standing, she realized to her chagrin that he was still wearing his boots from last night. It seemed she’d forgotten to help him with his boots before she’d fled the room the night before. He would hopefully become more autonomous as he improved, but for now she needed to be vigilant of all of the normal things he might not do for himself.

She got Michael to the kitchen and peeled a banana for him, placing it in his hand and hoping he’d be able to do the rest himself. To her relief, he ate the banana without further prompting, and Alice allowed herself to hope that his condition would improve rapidly now that he was out of the stifling hospital environment. Who knew, perhaps their day out today would stimulate him and accelerate his progress.

With some patience, Alice got Michael onto the subway, and they headed towards the mall. Alice hadn’t gone to the mall in years, but she’d need to get quite a bit of clothing for Michael if he wasn’t going to have to wear the same thing every day. As Alice stared at the advertisement on the opposite side of the subway car, the potential magnitude of the financial burden she’d taken on hit her once again. Even if she didn’t have to pay for Michael’s hospital stay, she’d still need to pay for his food and clothing, and whatever else he ended up needing. Feeling the panic start to rise in her again, she frantically stuffed all of the stress in a box and pushed it to the back of her mind.

Eager to distract herself from her panic, Alice turned her head to look at Michael, who was seated right next to her. He was, as usual, staring straight ahead, a vacant look on his face. Alice almost let out a hysterical laugh—on the subway he fit right in. The panic subsided as she studied his gaunt face. She couldn’t have left him to fend for himself on the street. It wouldn’t have been right.

They got to the mall, and Alice headed for Old Navy, the store she thought would be most likely to have a lot of the things she needed for relatively cheap. Always conscious of her limited finances, Alice gave herself a mental budget of $30 for jeans and $10 for shirts. Her hand on Michael’s arm, Alice led Michael into the store and went to find a sales clerk.

“Excuse me?” she said, approaching a young man in the men’s department. “Would you mind helping me out?”

“Sure,” the clerk said with a smile. “What do you need?”

“Umm…” Alice said, foreseeing the awkwardness about to ensue. She let go of Michael’s arm and stood to the side, gesturing at him. “What size shirt and jeans do you think he probably is?”

The clerk—Eric, according to his nametag—gave Alice a skeptical look.

“Uh. Sure. Sir?” he said, addressing Michael, “What size do you wear?”

Alice resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

“He’s mute, that’s why I can’t ask him,” Alice said.

“Oh, I get it,” Eric said, chagrined. “Um, well… If I had to guess… Probably a 32 or 34 for length. Maybe 30 or 32 for width? We can try some on, and see what works.”

“Great, thanks. Can we only try things from the sales rack, please?”

An hour later, they left with two pairs of jeans, a pair of shorts, ten shirts, a sweatshirt, socks, underwear, and a pair of shoes. Alice was a little surprised at how quickly they were able to get all of the things on her list, but shopping was considerably easier when the person one was shopping for had no opinions to offer and accepted whatever was put on him.

The receipt had been tough to sign, but Alice recognized the price was good for the amount of clothing they’d purchased. Eric had been very helpful, and had tactfully not questioned the awkwardness with which Alice had helped Michael try on the clothes.

They got back on the subway, which was easier than Alice worried it might be, due to Michael’s willingness to hold the bags for her. Alice was feeling good about their successful shopping trip, and the sunny Spring day outside added to her bright mood. From the raised part of the subway they were on, she could see the Manhattan skyline gleaming in the sunlight. Alice nudged Michael, and he turned his head towards her. Progress.

“Look, Michael, it’s New York City! Do you recognize it?” she said, pointing to the glittering skyline.

For the first time since she’d met him, Michael displayed a visible, visceral reaction.

His eyes widened. His already-pale face drained of any remaining color. He stared out the subway window for a solid five seconds, then looked away, clearly shaken.

“Are you OK Michael?” Alice asked, concerned.

Michael had returned to his normal posture: eyes straight ahead, hands in lap. But Alice could see his hands trembling in their clasped position. Tension was visible in his long neck, and while before his stare had seemed vacant, now it was focused and intentional.

Alice wasn’t a psychiatrist, but it looked to her like he might be having some kind of trauma-induced episode. A hypothesis started to form in Alice’s mind.

“Michael,” she said, leaning towards him and lowering her voice to a soothing murmur. “Did something happen to you in New York? Were you there during the invasion?”

Alice had lived in New York at the time as well, although living and working outside of Manhattan had spared her the more horrifying experiences those closest to Stark Tower had had to go through. Even so, the chaos of the battle, the sounds of screams and explosions, the rumors of airstrikes, the horror of the alien creatures—all of that had been terrifying. Alice couldn’t even imagine what it would have been like to be right in the thick of it.

Michael fisted his hands in his lap, but otherwise made no response.

Observing his stone-like face, Alice took a deep breath, and decided to risk a new approach. She put her hand on his, and was startled by how cold his fingers felt.

“It’s OK to have a hard time dealing with it. Probably everyone in this city was affected, one way or another,” she said.

Michael turned to look at her, and the emptiness in his eyes frightened her. Calmly, robotically, he raised one of his hands from his lap and grasped hers, removing it from his lap and pushing it slowly but firmly away from him. Unable to bear the intensity of his soulless stare, Alice looked away first. She crossed her arms under her chest, and tried to calm her racing heart. She felt a chill settle over her, reaching deep into her bones.

It was obvious there was a lot she didn’t understand about Michael’s turmoil.

\---

By the time they reached her apartment, Michael had returned to his normal self: emotionless, but harmless. Alice directed him to a seat in the living room, then retreated to her own room, needing a little space to breathe. What had happened on the subway had frightened her.

Determining that she needed a little break from Michael, and that it would be much easier to do her errands without him around, Alice decided to go get groceries by herself. She braced herself to see him again, then made her way to the kitchen, pulling some grapes and crackers out of the pantry for Michael. She knew he wouldn’t starve if he didn’t eat until dinner, so she decided to test out his independence, and left the grapes and crackers out easily within reach, but did not actually help him eat. She took mental stock of how many grapes and crackers she’d left out so she could measure how many he’d eaten by the time she got home.

Alice grabbed her reusable bag and keys, and told Michael she’d be back in a couple of hours, but startled as insistent banging on the front door sounded throughout the room.

“Alice! Alice, it’s Barb! Open up!” an open, animated voice emanated through the door.

“Shit,” Alice muttered under her breath. She’d forgotten about Barb.

“Uh, hey Barb, now is not a good time…” she responded, raising her voice so it would carry.

“Oh, come on Alice, I just want to drop off some oranges. You could at least open the door!” Barb’s brash voice sounded from the other side of the door.

“I… I just… Give me a minute, OK?” Alice said, recognizing that if she acted suspiciously around Barb, it would only make things worse.

Alice hustled over to where Michael sat on the couch, and urged him to stand.

“Come on, Michael, do you think you could get back to your room? Please?” she said, pulling him by the arm.

He didn’t move. He’d always been pliant and easy to guide in the past, and he just had to choose now to ignore her.

“Come _on_ , Michael!” Alice begged, putting her arms under his armpits and trying to pull him up. He was _heavy_. She glared at him, and if she didn’t know any better she’d swear there was a _twinkle_ in his eye. _Damn him_.

“Alice, who are you talking to? Is someone else there?” Barb said.

“Crap,” Alice said, giving up on her quest to move the patient she’d rather not have to explain to her mother-in-law.

It looked like there was nothing for it but to open the door. Knowing Barb, she would have found out about Michael eventually anyway. Alice braced herself, and let Barb in.

“Thank you, Alice! Now I saw these _beautiful_ oranges on sale and just had to share some with yo-” Barb said as she bustled into the apartment, arms full of brown grocery bags.

Barb was wearing her usual tan slacks and floral shirt, and her curly brown hair bounced around her shoulders. As she turned around to hand the oranges to Alice, her eyes were drawn to the tall, thin man haunting the couch, and she stopped short.

“Alice…” Barb said, voice rising in pitch at the end in unspoken question.

Alice took a deep breath, trying to figure out the best way to explain herself.

“Look, Barb, I just…”

“I can understand why you might not want to tell me if you’re seeing someone,” Barb said to Alice, lowering her voice presumably so Michael wouldn’t hear, “but just because I’m Andy’s mother doesn’t mean I don’t want you to be happy,”

Alice’s face blushed crimson, and she sputtered. Ignoring her consternation, Barb set the bags down on the kitchen counter and marched over to the couch. Barb stuck her hand out towards Michael, her thick bracelets jangling around on her wrists.

“Hello there, I’m Barb. I’m Alice’s mother-in-law, but don’t let that scare you off! My son Andy passed several years ago, as you probably already know, but you know, once a mother-in-law, always a mother-in-law!”

Michael tilted his head towards Barb, focusing on her face and completely ignoring her hand. Barb’s big smile stayed in place, but her face fell around it. Alice ran over to her before any more damage could be done.

“Barb, this is Michael. He was a… a patient at the hospital who needed a place to stay. He… doesn’t talk much. Or move much. Trauma, you know?”

Barb was very rarely rendered speechless, but today was one of those days. After a long, painful pause, she withdrew her hand, uttering a soft “oh” as she turned back to Alice.

“So… Is he one of those… returned?” she asked.

“Yeah. He arrived at the hospital the same time as everyone else, but… He had no one to pick him up. No place to go,” Alice said.

“Ah. I see,” Barb said, pursing her lips. “Um, would you mind talking with me for a second in the kitchen, Alice?”

Barb jerked her head over to the kitchen, bugging her eyes out in emphasis. Alice sighed and humored her, huddling in the corner of the kitchen as if Michael couldn’t hear them from half a room away.

“Alice, don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing here,” Barb said, her loud whisper reminiscent of a scolding nun in Catholic school.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Alice said stubbornly.

Barb could have jumped to any number of bizarre conclusions, and Alice refused to admit to any of them.

“You can’t replace Andy with some random stranger,” Barb said.

Alice’s jaw dropped in outrage.

“I told you it’s not like that-”

“-Even if it’s not romantic, he’s still your replacement,” Barb interrupted.

“That is _not_ what I’m doing. He… he just needs help and I’m a nice person.”

Barb put both hands on Alice’s shoulders, then shut her eyes, taking in a big breath.

“This is why I always push to stay close to you, Alice. You’re so far away from your mom, and I know you’ve been lonely.”

Unexpected hurt flooded Alice’s chest, and she didn’t want to talk any more.

“I’m glad you’re worried about me, Barb, but I _really_ don’t want to talk about this here, now. We can meet up for dinner or something next week. Right now, I’m going to ask you to please go,” she said.

Barb’s face fell in disappointment, her hurt mirroring Alice’s. This wasn’t the first time Alice had pushed Barb away, and the guilt rising in Alice almost made her take it back. Barb’s hands fell from Alice’s shoulders, and she pulled herself up tall, attempting to hide her bruised feelings under false bravado.

“Well then, I won’t impose upon you and your _guest_ any longer,” she said. “Keep the oranges. They’re good.”

Barb slung her purse high up on her shoulder, and marched to the door, letting herself out.

All fight drained from Alice’s body, and she slumped over the kitchen counter, trying to find some space to breath. Once again, she gave herself several minutes to freak out. Then she shut it down. Now to get back to what she had been trying to do in the first place: get groceries.

Alice grabbed her grocery bags, wallet, and keys, and found herself a sweatshirt to wear in case it got colder as the day wore on. She was about to leave for the grocery store, when her eyes were inevitably drawn to the dark shadow that rested on her couch. She sighed. Even if he hadn’t really processed anything that was said, she probably still owed him an explanation.

Alice took several of Barb’s oranges, and seated herself on the chair next to the couch. She peeled the orange carefully, leaving only two whole pieces of skin, and tore off a single segment. Alice opened up one of his palms, and placed the segment on it before taking an orange slice for herself.

“I’m sorry about Barb. She’s well-meaning, but she can be a bit… overbearing,” Alice said.

Michael didn’t say anything, but he did move his hand to his mouth, taking a slow and methodical bite out of the orange. Alice ate her orange slice as well, finding the fruit to be sweet and juicy, but still maintaining that crisp texture. How annoying.

“These oranges are actually really good,” she said resentfully.

They ate their oranges in silence for a long moment, then Alice decided it was time to make herself useful again.

“Well, I’m off to the store. I’ll be back in a few hours,” she said, lifting herself off the couch and gathering up her stuff.

She was halfway out the door when she turned back, looking towards the couch and finding Michael gazing back at her. There was somehow both nothing and a million questions behind that blank stare.

“Just so you know, you’re not a replacement for my dead husband,” she said, then she left.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who’s back! I’m just really enjoying writing this story, so here’s another chapter for y’all! Please let me know what you think of the pacing and everything.

When Alice came back from the grocery store, the grapes and crackers were untouched,but half of the oranges were gone. Michael sat on his couch, the orange peels strewn about on the table the only evidence of his activity. Alice picked up the peels and shoved them in the compost bin, then put the groceries away.

“Good, I’m glad to see you can eat on your own.” she said to him as she made her way to the bathroom, “That makes me feel a lot better about leaving you here by yourself.”

She really didn’t know if he paid any attention to what she was saying, but it helped her own sanity to talk aloud.

Feeling a little grimy from her day out, Alice took a quick shower and thought about what to make for dinner. She hadn’t cooked for more than one person in a long time, and it was kind of exciting. Her recipes all worked better with multiple portions. As she was drying her hair, she thought of Michael’s greasy, stringy hair, and it occurred to her that she should probably help him bathe himself, too. As a nurse, Alice wasn’t normally squeamish about that kind of thing, but this was a little different. They weren’t in the hospital any more, where her relationship to the patients was clearly delineated and professional.

Turning off her hair dryer, Alice thought for a minute about how to proceed. A straightforward, practical approach was best: she would just treat him like any other patient in the hospital. It would probably be fine. Alice could be professional, despite the weirdness, and Michael’s disconnected aloofness would make it easier. And, given his progress, he might even be able to do it himself.

Alice grabbed some underwear, a t-shirt, and shorts from the Old Navy bags and placed them on top of the toilet. Then, giving herself as professional an aura as possible, Alice marched out to the living room and gestured for Michael to follow her. He didn’t respond, so she moved over to his side to help him up, then walked him into the bathroom.

“Michael, you need to take a shower,” she said, pointing to the shower. “I’m going to leave you here, and if I don’t hear any water within ten minutes, I’m going to have to come in and help you. I’m sure neither of us wants that.”

Michael’s eyes focused on some grout in the wall, and Alice worried that perhaps she was pushing him a little too far. He’d already made so much progress. She also didn’t want to talk to a grown man like he was a child.

“Also, you know, if you just don’t want to take a shower, let me know. I’m not going to force you. But your hair is starting look pretty gross.”

Alice gestured at his shoulder-length black hair, which was beginning to resemble a grunge rocker’s post-concert ‘do. Michael just kept staring at the grout. Alice reached for the bottom of the shirt she was wearing, and mimed pulling it up over her head.

“Get undressed, OK?” she said, then left the bathroom, hoping he’d get the picture.

Soon the smell of garlic and ginger filled the apartment as Alice started prepping ingredients for fried rice. By the time she’d finished chopping the garlic, ginger, carrots, spam, and onions for the fried rice, she figured she’d given him enough time and returned to the bathroom. When she opened the door, she saw Michael still standing on the cold tile, fully dressed in his new jeans and blue polo shirt. It looked like Alice’s luck had run out.

“OK then, I’ll help you out. All right?” Alice said, moving towards Michael with a confidence she did not feel. Her training had taught her that the best way to set patients at ease was to move without hesitation or awkwardness, so she stuffed whatever trepidation she was feeling behind her profession.

She started with his shoes, unlacing them and pulling them off one by one. Then she moved on to his shirt, positioning his arms above his head so she could pull the shirt up and over. He remained completely stone-faced the entire process, but when she reached for the waist of his jeans, his hand suddenly shot out, grasping her wrist with a vice-like grip that started to hurt once the shock of initial contact faded. Slowly, she moved her hands away from him, and he released her.

“OK, I guess you can do that part yourself. I’ll turn around,” she said, pivoting to face the wall.

She heard the soft _whump_ of clothing hitting the floor, then footsteps into the shower, then she turned around, keeping her eyes up, to see if he needed any more help. After a few seconds of watching him stand motionless in the porcelain tub, she moved towards the shower and pointed out the handle to control the water, then turned it on for him, setting the knob to the exact spot she knew would be neither too hot, nor too cold. She set a bar of soap in his hand, and pointed out the shampoo bottle on the side of the tub, then retreated, shutting the frosted glass shower door behind her.

Alice seated herself on the toilet, and waited. Eyeing his silhouette through the glass doors, Alice saw that he had some idea how to use soap, which was a relief. This whole process had been more embarrassing than she had anticipated, and she truly hoped that next time he’d be able to do most of it himself.

Alice sighed and pulled her legs up to her chest, hugging her shins and resting her chin on her knees. It shouldn’t make a difference, but it didn’t help that Michael looked decent without clothes on. He was more muscular than she had expected—not bulky like a gym rat, but lean.

 _A soccer bod_ , she thought to herself, then chuckled. She used to joke with Andy about that—how the soccer physique was what she preferred. Football players—too buff. Swimmers—too v-shaped. Rugby players—Alice preferred men with thighs that weren’t wider than her torso, thank you very much. Alice used to tell Andy the only reason she’d married him was because he’d been on the intramural soccer team in college, then he’d laugh and say, “I know, babe. Why do you think I joined?”

So lost in her memories was Alice that it took her several minutes to realize what was so wrong with the whole picture. Michael had been in the hospital, essentially confined to his bed, for two whole months. How on earth had he maintained his physique? Alice remembered him when he’d first come in—he did not look significantly smaller. And he should definitely not have the level of muscle definition that he currently displayed. If anything, he should look emaciated.

Alice had served thousands of patients over the years, and of those patients, a decent percentage had had to stay in the hospital for several weeks or more. She knew what kind of changes extended hospital stays wreaked on a person’s body, and Michael was not displaying _any_ of those changes. The more Alice thought about it, the more unsettling it was.

Alice glanced back at the shower, and she could see that Michael had moved on to washing his hair. She made sure a towel was available in easy reach of the shower, then left, suddenly wanting to be as far away from him as possible. She got her laptop from her room and went to the living room to check her email, and maybe reconnect with some of her college friends like she had been thinking about earlier. It was beginning to feel like a really good idea for more people to know what was going on in her life.

\---

The weeks passed, and Alice and her houseguest fell into a pattern. Michael made rapid strides in independence, and soon he could dress, shower, and eat without any help. He still didn’t say anything, but it was a major load off of Alice’s shoulders that she no longer had to carefully monitor him just to keep him alive.

Alice gradually told family and friends about Michael, and her decision to house him was greeted with varying degrees of admiration and horror. The conversation with her mother had been hardest. As a single mom, Alice’s mother had always been protective of her, and being on opposite sides of the country only intensified her feelings of helplessness. Over and over again, Alice assured her mom that she’d be fine, that Barb was nearby, and that she’d come home for Christmas, but she knew she couldn’t completely alleviate her mother’s anxiety.

Jim and Carrie had even come over for dinner one night, ostensibly to catch up with Alice, but mostly to check out Michael. Jim was Andy’s brother, although with his blond hair and dainty nose, he didn’t look much like him. Carrie, Jim’s wife, had disappeared during The Snap, and Alice hadn’t seen them too much since The Return. They were both just so happy and relieved to be together again, Alice didn’t want to intrude.

Truly, Alice had been very fortunate. Carrie was the only one of her immediate family who had disappeared in The Snap. It could have been so much worse. Alice had friends and colleagues aplenty who had melted away, but nobody too close to her. She supposed that was one of the upsides of not having many friends.

As time passed, however, not having too many close friends began to feel like a liability. It was difficult to place why or how, but the longer she lived with Michael the more certain Alice became that something wasn’t quite right. Aside from his impressive muscle retention, he ran a strangely low body temperature, and he rarely seemed to sleep. Little things started to happen around the house that were never alarming enough to tell anyone about, but always set Alice’s nerves alight. She’d spend thirty minutes looking for her keys, only to find them out on the kitchen counter, where she was sure she’d searched a million times. She’d swear she’d hear sounds coming from Michael’s room, of talking or crying, or things being thrown around, but when she’d check on him he’d just be silently sitting in his perfectly neat, perfectly empty room. Alice had never been clumsy, but she found herself tripping over nothing as she walked around the apartment, sometimes landing on her knees in front of Michael.

Every time she looked at Michael, she saw something different. Sometimes, he seemed otherworldly, like an angel or some other heavenly creature that did not quite understand a mortal existence. Other times, he was more like a devil, or a ghost, and Alice felt like she was trapped in a horror movie. The signs and clues to the haunting surrounded her, as plain as day to an outsider, but somehow inscrutable to her.

Sometimes, he was so painfully ordinary that Alice was embarrassed by her paranoid musings.

It was starting to worry her, but while her uneasiness with Michael grew, so did her sympathy. He still had not spoken anything, but his ice-cold face had slowly begun to express emotion, and the few glimpses she caught at what lay beneath were devastating. Whatever had happened to Michael had been truly awful.

\---

Two and a half months after Alice took Michael in, he finally spoke.

In the end, his first words weren’t anything particularly profound or revealing

“It’s hot,” he said from his customary spot on the couch.

Alice nearly dropped the glass of water she was holding, spinning on her heel to face him.

“Michael! You just spoke!” she said, her brain still processing the new information.

Michael looked at her as if she had just said the most obvious thing in the world, then turned his gaze back out the window.

“Um, um… Yeah, sorry it’s hot,” Alice said, as she made her way over to the couch to sit next to him. “I couldn’t afford a place with AC, and New York can get pretty muggy in the summer.”

A couple of things stuck out to her about his declaration. One: he had a British accent. Or at least British-adjacent. She hadn’t been expecting that. Somehow she’d thought he’d sound like he was from Brooklyn, or straight out of a mob movie, with that greased-back hair. Maybe she had invested a little too much into her _The Godfather_ association. Two: he had a point. It really was stifling in here. She handed him her water.

“Here, this might help.”

Michael took a sip of the water, and grimaced. He concentrated on it, and the water seemed to shift a little in the glass as he stared. He took another sip, then gave the glass back to her, only now the glass was significantly colder than it had been when she’d handed it to him seconds earlier. Just like all of the other slightly-off things that had been happening around Michael lately, Alice chose not to mention it.

“Are we talking now?” Alice said as nonchalantly as possible.

“I suppose,” Michael said with a long-suffering sigh. Alice was so used his emotionlessness, the sheer amount of attitude in the sentence was staggering.

“So… Michael probably isn’t your real name,” Alice said, deciding to start with the simple stuff before he clammed up again.

“No, no it is not.”

He had a nice voice. It sounded… refined. Polished. A little pretentious.

“Well then what is your real name?” she asked.

Michael looked straight ahead for a long moment, then turned his head towards her, an honest-to-goodness smirk on his face.

“You’re seriously not going to tell me?” Alice said, incredulous.

“Now where’s the fun in that?” he said.

Alice’s jaw dropped in indignation. He was _sassing_ her. In his silence, he had always seemed so traumatized, so damaged. She had imagined that when he finally spoke it would be in broken whispers, every sentence heavy with the weight of some unspoken tragedy. And now here he was, talking back to her like some self-satisfied teenager.

All of a sudden, Alice saw the last several months in a whole new light. Maybe she hadn’t been tiptoeing around a grieving, broken man. Maybe she hadn’t been helping a seriously hurt person heal. Maybe he had just been messing with her this entire time, taking advantage of her charity. Affronted, she smacked his arm.

“Come on! I have been feeding and clothing and housing your for _months_! You can at least tell me your name. Or where you’re from. Or what you do for a living. _Something_.”

He didn’t reply, only smirked back at her, and Alice regretted giving him the satisfaction of seeing her all worked up. She was about to storm off, when the smirk on his face faded, and she remembered what he had looked like when she had first seen him in the hospital. Whatever he was up to right now, that emptiness inside of him had not been fake.

Alice settled herself further back into the couch, and sat up straighter, angling her body back towards Michael.

“I guess I actually haven’t told you that much about myself, either. I’ll tell you something about myself, then you tell me something. It could be anything, whatever you’re comfortable with. How does that sound?”

Michael didn’t say anything, but his attention remained fixed on Alice. Might as well go for it.

“My name is Alice Wakefield. I am a registered nurse. I am from Los Angeles, California. I am an only child, and I moved to New York when I got married to my husband Andy who, as you know, passed away several years ago.”

As he listened, and Alice could tell he was listening, Michael got a faraway look in his eye that was difficult to read. Maybe she had said too much all at once, and he felt like he had to respond with just as much information? Maybe she was expecting too much from his first day talking in over four months.

“You don’t have to say all the same things. You could just pick one, whatever is easiest,” she said, trying to sound as encouraging as possible.

He remained reticent for a long while, and Alice thought that perhaps his progress for the day was over, but then he finally spoke. All sass gone from his voice, he spoke softly and carefully, gaze fixed firmly on the ground.

“I have a brother.”

He said the simple phrase as if it were an adequate summary of his existence.

Alice scooted closer to him, excited at the prospect of possibly reuniting Michael with his family.

“You have a brother? That’s great! If you give me his information we can contact him. I’m sure he’d love to hear that you’re OK.”

As soon as the words came out of her mouth, Alice could see that she’d made a mistake. Michael’s features, which had only recently begun registering emotions, immediately shut down. It occurred to Alice that if Michael had remained mum about his family for this long, there must have been a reason.

“-No!” he said, a little too sharply. Then, softer, “...No… Not yet.”

As Alice wracked her brains at what to say to make up for her blunder, he stood abruptly, marking a close to their first discussion. He started for his room, but Alice called after him.

“I-I’m sorry! You don’t have to talk to your family if you don't want to. I know how that can be!” she said.

He turned back to her justs as he reached the door to his room.

“I know. Thank you, Alice Wakefield.”

He entered the room and shut the door behind him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I make a cameo in this chapter! See if you can tell where!

Now that Michael was finally talking, Alice couldn’t get him to shut up.

Now, he wasn’t exactly a chatterbox. Rather, he had a way with words, and he knew it. Speech was simply the medium through which he navigated life, as natural as breathing. Sometimes, it drove Alice crazy.

When they watched movies, he couldn’t help but comment on a character’s stupidity, poor special effects, or evident plot holes. Alice started taking him out with her to do errands, and he always had something to say about the neighborhood, about what the person in front of them in the checkout line was planning to do with all that tape, about how the neighbor who went out to jog each morning should really stop eating cookies all the time if she really wanted to lose weight, and so on and so forth. No matter what was going on, Michael had a comment, and it was always worth expressing.

“I mean, he’s not like Barb or anything, but it seems like he always has to have the last word,” Alice complained to Esther one day during her shift.

Esther nodded sympathetically, then paused, examining the chart in her hand. 

“You know what I think?” she said. “I think you’re just used to being by yourself. Every second I’m at home I’m hearing from my kids and my husband about what they’re thinking and feeling, and you haven’t had that for a while.”

Alice had to concede her point. Maybe five years living by herself had gotten her a little too used to silence. Still, she was allowed to be at least a little annoyed, right?

“Which reminds me,” Esther said, setting aside the chart and taking Alice by the arm. “I wanted to ask you about something…”

Alice returned Esther’s gaze cautiously, suddenly nervous at what her friend might ask her. Esther was a pretty straightforward person, and any hesitation from her was unusual.

“Yeah?” Alice asked.

“Uh… Just… Well I have this cousin. He’s a really nice guy, around your age, and he just got out of a relationship…” Esther said, her velocity increasing as she worked her way through the sentence.

“Esther, are you trying to set me up?” Alice asked incredulously. Some of her other colleagues she might expect this from, but Esther was far from being a busybody.

“Obviously, that is exactly what I’m doing! Look, I know it’s a little weird, but I really think you two might hit it off! And… I think it would be good for you to have someone in your life besides a former patient. You know, someone who can do something for _you_ for a change.” Esther said.

“Ahhh… I don’t know, Esther. It’s really sweet of you to think of me, but…” Alice trailed off.

“I get it,” Esther said with a wave of the hand, “just let me know if you change your mind.”

\---

One evening later that week saw Alice sitting with a stack of bills on the living room floor, the nightly news playing in the background. She didn’t usually watch the news—too repetitive and depressing—but she had a lot of bills to sort through, and it was nice to have some white noise in the background to help with the slog. Michael lounged on the couch, pretending not to pay attention. Over the weeks, though, Alice had gathered that he secretly loved watching the news and judging everyone who appeared on screen.

On TV, Anderson Cooper was interviewing a subdued Tony Stark about The Snap. The government, as well as whatever the Avengers were, had both released press statements following The Snap and The Return, containing explanations somehow both vague and utterly fantastic revolving around aliens and supernatural power sources. Responses to the explanations had been mixed at best. The people of New York always tended to be supportive of the Avengers, since they had witnessed firsthand their defense of the city, but nobody was pleased with the opacity with which the organization operated.

 _“-So you’re saying the entire event was orchestrated by an extraterrestrial being called Thanos?”_ Anderson’s voice barely registered in Alice’s ears as she sorted mail.

_“Yep. Thanos. Big, ugly, purple. Anyway, this maniacal bastard decided he needed to wipe out half the universe’s population, and he succeeded. At least initially. Thankfully, the Avengers were able to bring everyone that giant purple baldy killed back.”_

The words from the television not truly registering in her brain, Alice was trying to figure out if a letter she’d received from her bank was junk or not when a strangled sound from the couch caught her attention. She lifted her head, and saw Michael leaned back into the couch, his eyes bugged out and his hands clawing at his neck.

“Michael?” she said in alarm, and before she could even complete his name, he had scrambled backwards over the couch, half falling, half jumping off of it and over into the corner by the front door. He pressed himself completely against the wall, the whites of his eyes huge in his terror, and despite the wall kept trying to move backwards, away from whatever phantom had caused his panic. Throughout his mad escape, he continuously choked and grasped at his neck, as if pulling invisible fingers from his throat.

“Ca- can’t… breathe…” he gasped.

Alice frantically clicked off the television, then dashed towards him, slowing as she realized that advancing on him might cause him to panic even more. She eased her approach, holding her hands out, palms down, in a non-threatening manner, and made shhh-ing noises to calm him.

“Michael, you’re fine. Everything is OK. No one is trying to hurt you,” she said in soft, even tones. He simply stared back at her with frightened, uncomprehending eyes, like an animal cornered by predators.

Step by step, Alice made her way closer and closer to him, and his breathing gradually started to calm. She placed a light, careful hand on his forearm and tugged it gently towards her, pulling his hand away from his neck.

“Shhhhh, everything is going to be all right. You’re safe,” she said as she repeated the motion with his other arm.

The frantic heaving of his chest slowed, and his eyes gradually regained the light of comprehension. Both forearms held out in front of him in Alice’s grasp, whatever cord of tension that was holding Michael upright snapped, and he collapsed to the ground, nearly bringing Alice with him. She crouched down in front of him, and let her hands travel further up his arms to brace his shoulders. His head fell onto his chest, and he shook.

“I thought I was back there,” he said, his normally-sure voice quavering.

Alice remained silent for a beat, contemplating how much to pry.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she said gently.

Michael shook his head, fastening his eyes shut.

“No.”

“All right then,” Alice said. She almost asked, “Would you like me to stay?” but she knew he would say no. It’s what she had always told her friends after Andy had died. It was better not to ask in the first place.

Alice scooted over to seat herself by his side, back leaned up against the wall, then snaked an arm around his shoulders, trying to anchor him in place with physical contact. It wasn’t easy to do, considering he was so much longer and wider than she, but she did her best, squeezing a little to add some heft to the contact. He didn’t pull away from her, which she took as a win.

Ideally, she would get a blanket for him, as she did for victims of shock in the hospital, but she didn’t want to leave him so soon after the episode. So she stayed at his side, rubbing her hands up and down his shoulders, hoping it made some kind of difference.

They sat like that for a long time, and under Alice’s hands she could feel his body gradually calming and returning to its normal state. She was relieved that he was recovering, but almost sad at the thought that this window of vulnerability would soon close. He revealed so little of himself, and she so dearly wanted to understand.

Eventually, Michael returned to himself and stood, shaking off Alice’s embrace. He walked back to the couch without even looking at her, tension taut across his shoulders. Before he sat down, he paused. Without turning back, he spoke.

“How did your husband die?” he asked.

Alice blinked up at his back from her seat on the floor, taken aback by the sudden enquiry. Michael had never shown much interest in her life or her history before. 

“It was cancer. A brain tumor,” she said.

“Was he ill long?” Michael said.

Alice hauled herself to her feet, making her way back to the living room and sitting in the chair next to the couch. Michael still stood.

“No, not too long. It was already pretty advanced by the time they caught it. He only lasted about a year from his diagnosis,” she said, the words no longer hurting her like they used to.

Michael let out an odd sort of puff of air, almost like a laugh, then sat down.

“I don’t think I really understood death before,” he said, in an almost wondering tone, surprised by his own admission.

“That’s pretty normal, I think,” Alice said. “It faces everyone sooner or later, but it’s a lot easier to just pretend it’s not real. At least until something happens like an illness or a war or something. I think ignoring it is how most humans cope.”

“Human life is so fragile,” Michael said.

It was a common sentiment, but he didn’t say it with the normal fear or worry that Alice heard from most people. He sounded disappointed—almost disgusted. Like all of humanity let him down by being so feeble.

“That’s true…” Alice said, “I guess that’s what makes it precious.”

Michael looked towards her, his gaze piercing and invasive.

“Aren’t you upset?” he asked.

“...Upset about what? Death?” she said, puzzled.

He shook his head, but his focus never wavered from her.

“No. So many people came back from the dead, but not your husband. Doesn’t that seem unfair to you?”

Alice felt like the wind had been knocked out of her. She swallowed, trying to find her voice, but it was still a long moment before she made her reply.

“Yes. Yes, of course it feels unfair.”

Now that was the understatement of the century. Every day, every second, Alice lived with the unfairness of it all. She understood it wasn’t rational, of course. She understood that it wasn’t productive to live this way, which is why she was careful not to let the anger show. And here Michael was, a stranger she’d invited into her home, seeing right through her. Expressing the thoughts she had been avoiding ever since The Return.Thoughts she’d been avoiding ever since Andy’s death five years ago, if she was being honest.

“You live such short, desperate lives, and your husband’s was cut off prematurely. Then, for seemingly no reason whatsoever, some people were granted reprieve while you were not.”

Alice squeezed her eyes shut, reminding herself why what he was saying wasn’t accurate.

“I… sometimes I feel that way, but it’s not true. The people who Returned—they were people who shouldn’t have disappeared in the first place. And besides, I should be happy they are back. It doesn’t make sense to be bitter about other people's happiness. That can only lead to a life of bitterness.”

Michael huffed, a sour smirk rising to his lips.

“Alice, you’ve been trying to be selfless for too long. If you’re angry, just let yourself be angry.”

Alice took a deep breath, struggling to regulate her emotions.

“Ten minutes,” she said eventually.

“What?” Michael asked.

“I give myself ten minutes to be angry when I need it. Then I move on. ...I… Honestly I appreciate you talking to me about this. It’s a relief to be selfish and angry sometimes, to express that to someone else without judgment. But at a certain point it’s only making me more miserable. What’s the point in that?”

The bitter smirk on Michael’s face fell, eventually morphing into a straightforward frown. His gaze shifted away from Alice’s, the irises growing glassy and distant.

“Huh,” he said, the sound having a cadence that seemed to acknowledge a novel thought or idea.

“What?” Alice said.

When he replied, his voice was dreamy and far-off, and Alice wasn’t certain he even realized she was still there.

“Perhaps if I could have done the same thing—contained my anger like you did—many things would have turned out differently.”

\--- 

The next day, Alice decided to talk to Michael about leaving. She told herself it wasn’t because of the way she’d felt dissected and analyzed the day before, when all of her most private thoughts and fears had been dumped out of her brain like a junk drawer about to be sorted. And that was mostly true. It wasn’t comfortable, the feeling of someone seeing right through you, but it was a relief to know that someone understood her.

No, it was doing the bills the night before that prompted the moving-out conversation. It wasn’t that Alice wasn’t willing to shoulder the financial responsibility of taking care of Michael--it was just that he was recovering, and her ultimate goal was for his independence and self-sufficiency.

She took Michael out to her favorite soup dumpling restaurant, hoping the mouthwatering _xiaolongbao_ would ease the potentially uncomfortable conversation. After Michael scoffed at her suggestion that he order (“How on earth would I know what to order?”), Alice ordered a steamer full of dumplings, along with sauteed pea shoots and mapo tofu.

Alice gave the waitress her selections and handed her their menus, then sipped her tea, inhaling the pungent steam and letting it clear her nostrils.

“So. What did you want to talk about,” Michael said, sitting calm and composed with both hands flat on the table.

“Maybe I just wanted to get some soup dumplings,” Alice said, a little defensive.

“Come on, Alice. You’re essentially a shut-in. There must be some purpose for this little outing,” he said, tone slightly condescending.

Alice huffed.

“It’s not like I _never_ go out…” she muttered, then cleared her throat. “OK, I do have something I wanted to talk about.”

“Ah,” Michael said, with obnoxious, Michael-specific smugness.

Alice leaned forward over her tea, resting her elbows on the table.

“I’ve been so pleased with your recovery. You’ve improved so much since you were discharged from the hospital. I think you probably still have a while to go, but I wanted to know what goals you have for recovery. What are your plans?” she said.

Michael leaned back in his chair, the picture of nonchalance.

“I assume you want me gone,” he said breezily. “I expected as much.”

Alice frowned. This was exactly the assumption she did not want him to jump to.

“That’s not what I meant. I just thought that… I assume that your goal would be to be independent. You don’t necessarily have to go back to your family or anything like that, but I could help you find a job, find your own apartment… You know, things like that.”

The waitress arrived with their pea shoots and tofu, an interruption much welcomed by Alice. Michael focused on the pea shoots, helping himself to a heaping serving of the green vegetables as soon as the waitress left.

“Like I said, trying to get rid of me,” he said, setting aside his pea shoots and folding his arms across his chest.

“That’s not what I said,” Alice repeated, keeping her voice cool and collected. She wasn’t going to let him get a rise out of her. “You don’t have to talk about your past or anything, but surely you must have had your own aspirations or goals. I want to help you reach them.”

One half of Michael’s mouth quirked upwards in an amused smile.

“I highly doubt that, he said.

“You doubt my sincerity? I think I’ve done enough to prove that I genuinely want to help.”

“Lucky for you, I don’t have the same goals that I had before. Otherwise, you certainly would regret agreeing to help me meet them,” he said, smiling a little too widely in a way that was no doubt intentionally off-putting.

Alice was starting to get sick of his cryptic deflections.

“OK, fine. You have different goals from before. What are your goals _now_?” she said, trying to hide the exasperation from her voice.

Michael’s smile faded, and he took a bite of pea shoots, chewing and swallowing carefully before continuing.

“I don’t know. I suppose my goal right now is to do as little damage as possible. It’s a pretty big pivot for me, to be perfectly honest” he said sardonically.

Alice wondered briefly what kind of shenanigans Michael could have possibly been up to before his disappearance, and realized she didn’t really want to know. So far, he hadn’t displayed any signs of criminality, and she refused to believe the worst of him without any evidence. However, if he had led a troubled past and he was trying to change his ways, she could understand how difficult that might be. She’d witnessed patients recovering from opioid addiction, and she knew that for some, it took a while to have the energy to do anything besides not be an addict. Sometimes the best you could do was not give in to your former vices.

“OK,” she said, “I can appreciate that if it’s what you’re currently capable of. We should start thinking about the future though-”

Michael started to interrupt her, but she held up a hand, silencing him.

“-I am _not_ giving you any kind of deadline or ultimatum.You are welcome in my home as long as you need to be there. I just think it would be good to plan for how to get you back on your feet,” she said.

The dumplings finally arrived, and Alice dug in, feeling that she had said her piece and not wanting to dwell on the uncomfortable topic any longer. So eager was she, that she bit into a dumpling a little too fast, and the fatty juice inside burned her tongue. She winced and drank from the cup of water the waiter had provided next to her tea.

Michael selected a dumpling for himself, and Alice had to hold back her laughter as his normally graceful hands struggled to maneuver the slippery dumpling effectively with chopsticks. She scooted her chair over to him, and showed him how to pick up the dumpling, dip it in vinegar, then place it on his spoon, where he could suck out the juice if he so desired.

“Honestly, these are rather disgusting to eat, what with the juices squirting everywhere,” he said in frustration.

Alice grinned at him.

“Disgusting but delicious! Actually, I take that back. They’re just delicious. You’re just embarrassed you can’t figure out how to eat them.”

They continued their meal, the dumplings disappearing quickly while the tofu and pea shoots lingered. Alice was working on the last of the pea shoots when she looked up and found Michael considering her carefully over his empty plate. She paused, pea shoots halfway to her mouth as she looked back at him. She set the food down and sat up straighter in her seat.

“What is it? Do I have something on my face?” she asked.

He shook his head slowly.

“I’m just trying to figure out why you’re doing this. Helping me. What could possibly be in it for you,” he said evenly.

Alice’s expression soured.

“I’m telling you, I really don’t have an agenda. Is it so crazy to believe that I didn’t want you to be homeless and helpless on the street?” she said, a little affronted.

Michael raised a hand to his chin, index finger resting between his lips, and eyed her.

“That’s the thing. I think I believe you,” he said.

Alice squirmed under his discerning gaze, his blue eyes seeming to look right through her. It was galling that he didn’t return the favor, and provide her with some transparency. Galling, and a little bit frightening, when she considered the fact that she had no idea what he had been in the past. Perhaps she should have been a little harsher with him, a little more insistent that he make plans to move out, if nothing else for her own safety. Still… although it was frightening and potentially foolish, Alice preferred to live in a world where she trusted people, a world where she wasn’t too afraid to be kind. Andy had always been like that, and it was one of the ways she honored his memory.

She asked for the check and paid the bill, and they left together, Michael carrying their leftovers in a plastic bag emblazoned with the obligatory smiley face and cursive “Thank you!” It wasn’t heavy, but Michael also carried Alice’s purse for her, taking it without a word and ignoring her protestations that she could carry it herself. They walked back to Alice’s apartment, and Michael listened as Alice told him the latest gossip among the nurses at the hospital, many of whom Michael remembered despite seeming mostly comatose during his stay there.

Once they reached home, Alice put the leftovers in the fridge, discovering a handful of fortune cookies at the bottom of the bag as she did so.

“Michael, we forgot our fortune cookies!” she called to Michael, who was already headed to his room. He turned his head back at the sound of her voice.

“What?” he asked.

“Come over here, let’s see our fortunes,” she said, eagerly gesturing, and he complied.

She sat down on the kitchen floor by the refrigerator and pulled Michael down next to her. Alice put a cookie in his hand, then opened her own, eating exactly half of it before reading her fortune, as per her ritual. She was about to read her fortune, when she caught sight of Michael coughing and spitting up his own paper.

“Did you just... Eat that? Without taking the fortune out?” she asked.

Michael gave her a scornful look.

“I just forgot. It’s not that shocking,” he said.

“Well, what does it say?” she asked, but Michael had already stood up to throw the paper, covered as it was in brownish saliva-drenched cookie, in the trash.

Alice almost stopped him, as if the fortune he’d accidentally eaten might give her some kind of clue as to his uncertain future, but couldn’t bring herself to stoop to it. Instead, she unfolded her own fortune, reading in a clear, sing-songy voice.

“‘ _If you err, do not be afraid to correct yourself,’”_ she intoned. “I think that’s actually Confucius. This is a high-class fortune cookie.”

Michael sat back down next to her and clasped his hands in his lap, nodding slowly, but saying nothing. Alice ate the rest of her cookie, and winced.

“That’s always the worst part of burning your tongue,” she said. “It makes eating painful, which sucks because eating is one of my _favorite_ things to do.”

“You burned your tongue?” he asked.

“Yeah, on the soup dumplings. They were delicious, so I guess it’s worth it.”

She started to get up, but Michael’s hand on her arm stopped her.

“Let me see,” he said.

“What? My tongue?” she asked, confused.

“Just, let me see.”

Alice obediently opened her mouth in his direction. The kitchen light wasn’t on, so she had no idea how he’d be able to see anything useful. Even if he could see, she had even less idea what he would do about a burned tongue. Still, she “Ahhh”’d and leaned towards him, and he focused intently on her tongue.

“Some ice will help,” he said after a long moment, standing and grabbing an ice cube from the freezer. He placed it in her hand.

“Uh… it might help for a little, but my tongue is going to stay burned. That’s how burns works. I’m a nurse, remember?”

“Just humor me, OK?” he said, and Alice accepted the ice cube, popping into her mouth and enjoying the relief it brought, though she knew it to be temporary.

She didn’t even notice when the next day, her tongue was completely healed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I'm the lady who jogs and eats too many cookies)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are parts of this chapter that would be easier to understand if you’ve seen The Godfather before. If you’ve never seen The Godfather, you might want to google a summary or something.

Three months after Michael’s discharge, Alice called in a favor from Dr. Minwari, and got Michael a follow up appointment to check up on him. The morning of his appointment Michael boarded the bus with Alice, and together they returned to the place of their first meeting. The checkup was brief, as Alice had suspected it would be. Everything visible about Michael’s health was just as normal as it had been when he’d first arrived at the hospital, although Dr. Minwari was surprised at how much he had improved in communication and independent movement.

“Well, it looks like our Michael Corleone is on the mend,” Dr. Minwari said as she finished up the checkup. Michael’s eyebrows knit in confusion, but he only sat in silence as Dr. Minwari wrote notes on his chart.

On their way back home on the bus, Michael turned to Alice and asked her about the moniker.

“Where did you come up with my name? I had thought it was simply random, but I have a surname as well? Surely that was not chosen at random.”

Alice fought the urge to flush a little, embarrassed at having named a human being after a piece of pop culture. She’d secretly hoped that Michael would soon tell her his real name, and they’d never have to discuss where his temporary name had come from.

“Uh… Michael Corleone is a character in a famous movie. You reminded me of him, so that’s why I called you Michael.”

“A famous movie? Is he a beloved character?” Michael asked.

“Oh yes, he’s very popular. Lots of people think that movie is one of the best movies ever made,” she said, wanting to reassure him that the inspiration for his name was a good one.

Michael nodded his head, and to Alice’s relief asked no more about the movie for the rest of the bus ride.

\---

Over the months, Michael and Alice had established that Friday nights were movie nights. Michael liked movies, and never complained about having already seen whatever movie Alice picked, making him an ideal movie-watching partner, as long as you didn’t mind a running commentary. Predictably, the Friday after their return to the hospital, Michael requested that they view the movie after which he had been named. Alice wasn’t entirely comfortable with this request, but she could think of no reason to refuse him, so on Friday night they watched _The Godfather_.

Initially, Michael made a lot of comments, as was his habit. He was immediately partial to Tom Hagen, and was weirdly delighted by the appearance of the horse head in Woltz’s bed. He shook his head at Sonny’s brashness, commenting multiple times that Michael would be better-suited to leading the family than his older brother if only he wasn’t so naive about getting his hands dirty. Then, movie-Michael killed McCluskey and Sollozzo, and Alice’s Michael grew quiet.

As the movie wore on, his commentary grew less and less frequent. When Tom Hagen was removed as the Corleone’s _consigliere_ , he said nothing, but Alice couldn’t help but notice the stricken look on his face. As Michael Corleone became more and more embedded in his role in the family, his features grew hardened and cold, and Alice was reminded of her Michael’s expression when he’d first arrived at the hospital. The last hour of the movie passed in near complete silence, both spectators utterly focused on the film, unable to escape the inevitable comparison between Michael and his namesake. Alice couldn’t help but wonder: what similarities did Michael see between himself and the future Don Corleone? What differences? What kind of life had he led before The Snap that he was so deeply affected by a movie like _The Godfather_?

On the screen, Kay went to fix Michael a drink, and looked back at him as his cronies kissed his hands, seeing only a glimpse of his new role as Don Corleone before the door was shut in her face. The credits rolled.

For a moment, Alice was transported back to high school, when girls and boys sent each other mix CDs brimming with secret messages and not-so-subtle hints. Michael leaned back into the couch and crossed his legs, looking for all the world like a young man trying to decode the meaning behind a particularly confusing mixtape. She really hadn’t meant Michael’s nickname to mean anything to him, but she could tell that it did.

“So. This is the man who inspired my name?” he said finally.

Alice laughed, and it sounded nervous and false even to her own ears.

“Yeah, I mean, it was mostly just because of the hair,” she said, aiming for a casual tone.

“My hair doesn’t look that much like his.”

“Not at first, but later it does. I mean… It’s not as long as yours, but it's black and slicked back,” Alice said.

“Ah,” Michael said.

The air between them grew thick, and Alice could see heavy thoughts weighing Michael down, though she couldn't guess what those thoughts were.

“You said Michael Corleone is a much-beloved character?” Michael asked eventually.

“Yes, although… it's complicated. Some people see him as a villain, others a hero. He’s certainly very popular, but… sometimes I worry that we romanticize villains too much. He killed people. No matter what his motivations, he shouldn’t have done that. It’s much harder to make the right choices than the wrong ones.”

Michael leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and laced his long fingers together.

“Once you’ve gone down a certain path, it can be very difficult to turn back. The so-called good choices are no longer options for Michael Corleone.”

Alice shook her head vigorously.

“I disagree. It’s never too late to change—never too late to start afresh. I mean, as a Christian I have to believe that.”

“I’m not talking about a _spiritual_ redemption, whatever that means,” Michael said. “After a certain point, social rehabilitation is impossible. Maybe Michael could start anew for himself, but would he be able to function in society? It may not be possible for him to redeem himself in the eyes of his community. To them, he is nothing but a monster.”

“I mean… maybe. I suppose we generally put murderers in jail for life, no matter how many good deeds they do to try and make up for it…” Alice said, conceding his point.

She withdrew for a long moment, lost in her own thoughts as the credits rolled, the somber Italian score matching her thoughtful mood.

“What is it? What are you thinking?” Michael asked eventually, surprising her. He was generally more interested in his own opinion than hers.

“Oh. I was just thinking about my dad. He left my mom when I was little. I never heard anything from him my whole life. I don’t think he could ever do anything that would make up for that, but… I’d still prefer it if he tried.”

A contemplative hum was Michael’s only response. She waited for a while to see if he would say anything else, or if she would either, but neither of them spoke again.

Alice clicked off the television and walked to her bedroom, surrounded by the uncomfortable, floating feeling that accompanies an incident that you are certain is significant, but uncertain as to how.

\---

The next morning, Alice woke up feeling uncomfortable for a whole different reason. She never remembered her dreams in any detail, and as she entered consciousness the details of her dream evaporated like so much mist in the morning, but she remembered the highlights. Her, in the shower with Michael, hot water and steam, lips on her neck, hands on her waist. She'd had a sex dream about her former-patient-turned-houseguest.

Alice sat up in bed and cradled her head in her hands, cursing her hormones for doing this to her. She wouldn't deny that she'd been a little lonely since Andy had passed, but it truly wasn't that bad. Most of the time she was perfectly content, but every once in a while her libido decided to remind her of her physical needs in annoying ways.

She didn't feel bad. At least, she didn't feel guilty for betraying Andy or anything like that, for two reasons. One, Andy had always made it clear that he wanted her to be happy after he passed, that he wanted her to be able to find love again. They hadn't even reached thirty yet when he'd been diagnosed, and they both knew she had so much life left to live. It had been long enough now that finding love again felt like a real possibility, even if it wasn't one that Alice was actively pursuing.

Two, Alice knew the dream had simply been a result of her hormone-addled brain, seeking for some potential source of sexual gratification. The shower event from several months before had been completely platonic and professional, but it was, sadly, the closest Alice had come to a sexual encounter in a long time. So her ever-helpful brain decided to reimagine the event in a way that would get her all hot and bothered. Michael was simply an innocent bystander, collateral damage in the rampage of her lust-addled brain, and Alice had no intention of preying on her roommate.

If there was one thing Alice knew for certain, it was that becoming romantically involved with Michael would be a bad idea.

Alice shook her head to dislodge the heavy, murky images from her brain, and got ready for the day. She was already running a little late for work, and she didn’t have time to deal with this nonsense. Michael usually slept in, but he was already up, dressed, and seated on the couch when she got to the living room.

“Good morning,” she said, rushing through the greeting and focusing on finding her keys and bag instead of paying him any attention. Her hand was on the doorknob of the front door when Michael’s voice halted her.

“Wait.”

She turned around, startled by the forcefulness of the command.

“What is it?” she said, turning around to see Michael standing in front of the couch. He looked a little offended.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” he demanded.

Usually, Alice fried herself an egg and ate it on toast for breakfast every morning, but she’d decided to skip her meal this morning, delayed as she was. She wasn’t sure why he would care about that, though.

“I'm running late,” she said by way of explanation, returning his gaze with a look of confusion.

Michael grimaced.

“There's food in the kitchen for you. I'll just throw it away,” he said, pivoting on his heal to march towards the kitchen.

Alice blinked in surprise, shutting the already-ajar door and stepping back into the room. She moved over to the kitchen, where Michael had already grabbed a plate of egg on toast and was about to throw it in the trash. Alice put a hand on Michael's arm, stopping him.

“Wait, I can eat it. I didn't know you’d made something for me,” she said, surprised by his simple act of service.

Michael froze for a moment before returning the plate to the countertop and stalking back to the living room.

“Good. I'd rather it didn't go to waste,” he said.

Alice ate the toast, enjoying the way the runny yolk seeped into the crusty toast. He'd got the yolk just right, but he hadn't seasoned the egg at all, and it was a little bland. Alice’s teeth also caught on a couple of tiny, crunchy pieces of eggshell, confirming her suspicions that Michael had little to no experience cooking.

“Thank you, it's delicious!” she said enthusiastically. “I've got to run now, I'll see you later tonight.”

Michael waved his hand at her from his seat on the couch, not bothering to face her as she ran out the door.

\---

As soon as Alice’s break started, she went to find Esther.

“Hey Esther, how's it going?” she asked, trying to mask her nerves with a chipper attitude.

Esther looked up at Alice over her chart, her sleekly-manicured eyebrows raising.

“Good,” Esther said, a little suspiciously. “How are you?”

Alice fiddled with the front of her scrubs.

“Um, I was just thinking, if the offer still stands, I'd like to meet your cousin.”

\---

Alice had to work on Friday, so she scheduled her date with Oscar (Esther's cousin) on Saturday evening. She spent the day on errands, wanting to make sure she had everything done before her date. In the morning she went for a run and got groceries, then in the afternoon she went to the laundromat, Michael surprising her once again by going with her to carry the heavy laundry baskets.

They waited in the laundromat for the washing cycle to finish, both reading books. Alice was reading a novel her mom had given her for her birthday—a work of modern fiction that was mildly entertaining, but she probably wouldn’t be reading if she didn’t know her mom was going to ask her about it later. Michael was reading a biography of Al Capone that Alice had checked out from the library for him after he’d expressed interest in the history of the mob in the US. He seemed to get distracted easily, however, his reading frequently interrupted by long looks out the window.

After they moved the laundry to the dryers, Alice decided she should probably tell Michael she’d be going out tonight. He’d never expressed a need to know where she was all the time, but it was very unusual for her to go out without him in the evenings, so she felt like an explanation was in order.

“I’m going out tonight, just to let you know,” she said as they settled into their seats again.

“Oh really? Where?” he said with little interest, still staring at his book.

“I’m actually not sure. My date is picking me up, and he said we were going to get dinner somewhere nearby.”

Michael set his book down on his lap and turned his head towards her.

“Date? You’re courting someone?” he asked.

“‘Courting someone’?” Alice echoed with a gently mocking tone, and Michael made a face. “Esther set me up with her cousin, and this is our first date.”

Michael turned back to his book, a little more quickly than he normally would have, Alice thought.

“Hm,” he said.

“Anyway, I shouldn’t be out late, but I’ll be gone from seven probably until ten or so,” she said, and Michael nodded.

“Fine,” he said.

They kept reading in silence until the dryer cycle ended, then they hauled the laundry home, carrying the heavy baskets the three blocks back to Alice’s apartment. Alice folded the laundry as she watched some lighthearted network comedy Michael labeled “drivel,” then put all of the clothes away. Michael didn’t help with the folding, which Alice was grateful for, because he always screwed it up.

It was already pretty late in the day by the time the laundry was done, so Alice cleaned the apartment until six, then started getting ready for her date. She hadn’t put significant effort into her appearance in some time, so she wanted to give herself plenty of time to beautify herself. She showered, then blow-dried her hair. The blow-dryer dried out her skin, so she rummaged around in her cabinet for moisturizer before applying foundation. She gritted her teeth as she started to apply her liquid eyeliner, and had to reapply the eyeliner multiple times before she was satisfied. Some blush, eyeshadow, mascara, and lipstick later, Alice was satisfied that she wouldn’t be embarrassed to go out in public, and she retreated from the bathroom. It was 6:50.

Alice changed into a casual, spring-y dress with sandals with a slight heel, and found her nice purse, moving her wallet and keys from her work bag to the less-practical purse. She moved to the living room to wait, and the butterflies started to flit about in her stomach in earnest. Michael was sitting in the corner with his Al Capone book, and his eyes flitted up as she entered the room, though his head still angled down towards his book. Alice moved over to the couch and sat down, pulling out her phone to check for any messages from Oscar. She could feel Michael’s eyes following her as she did so, and his scrutiny only served to increase her nervousness.

“Do I look ridiculous?” she asked eventually, setting her phone down in her lap and looking at him.

“No,” he said.

“I mean the lipstick. I feel like it always looks fine on other people, but whenever I wear it seems like it’s too much,” Alice said, talking faster than she normally did.

“It looks acceptable,” Michael said.

Alice was about to insist that he provide more specific and useful feedback when there was a knock at the door.

“Coming!” she yelled, rushing to gather up her things.

“I’ll be back around ten, OK?” she said, waving goodbye to Michael. His head was back in his book, and he offered no response.

Alice opened the door and met Oscar on the doorstep, not really wanting to have to deal with introducing him to Michael, and they headed out on their date.

\---

Oscar was an excellent date. He was handsome, with short dark hair, deep brown eyes, and rich, toffee-colored skin. He was a little shy, but he quickly put Alice at ease and was an excellent listener, somehow always managing to turn the conversation back to Alice, who usually didn’t speak much about herself.

They walked together to an Italian restaurant only a fifteen minute walk away from Alice’s apartment, and he ordered an appetizer and gnocchi while Alice ordered fettuccine alfredo. They sipped wine, ate bread dipped in olive oil, and talked.

Oscar, it turned out, was an illustrator, and a talented one at that. After his profession came up, Alice googled some of his work and was extremely impressed. He had illustrated quite a few children’s books, and was interested in doing cover work for adult fiction as well. Alice didn’t doubt that he’d be able to do it.

“I’ve heard so much about you, I’m really glad I finally get to meet you,” Oscar said soon after their main course arrived, and Alice resisted the urge to blush.

“I can’t imagine what Esther has told you about me,” she said, hiding a little behind her wine glass.

“Only good things!” Oscar said with a laugh. “She told me you were smart, hard-working, and kind. She told me you even took in a patient who didn’t have a place to go after being discharged!”

Alice nodded.

“Yeah, I did that… I don’t know if that was kind so much as foolish, though,” she said, falling into her old habit of deflecting compliments.

Oscar shook his head.

“No, I think it’s beautiful. People in the city are always too cautious—too careful to help other people. It’s awesome you went against that,” he said with a gleaming smile.

Oscar took another sip of his wine, but somehow the glass slipped in his hands, dumping red wine all over his flannel shirt. He sputtered and fumbled, and Alice handed him her napkin to try and mitigate the damage. The waiter came over and offered some more napkins, but Oscar’s embarrassment was evident.

Alice tried to move the conversation forward, chattering away in order to distract him from the red stain on his front, and he gradually opened back up. It helped that the pasta was delicious.

“I planned for us to get some ice cream after this, but I’m a little embarrassed to walk around too much with this giant mark of shame on my chest,” Oscar said as the waiter took their plates away.

“Well, my place is pretty close. I can get you a replacement shirt so people won’t think you got stabbed on the subway.”

Oscar’s eyebrows rose in surprise, and Alice resisted the urge to blush.

“I… I don’t mean… You don’t have to stay, I could just get you a shirt,” she said, and she truly hadn’t meant to signal anything beyond that.

“Um, well as long as you don’t mind, it would be nice to have a fresh shirt. And, you know, returning it would give me an excuse to see you again,” he said, and Alice was very proud of herself that she was able to simply smile in response without stuttering or turning bright red.

They walked back to her apartment, and Alice remembered that Oscar did not know that Michael was still living with her.

“Oh, by the way,” she said as they walked down the sidewalk, “the patient I took in—he still lives with me, so you might see him when we get back to the apartment.”

Oscar looked a little taken aback, but he took it in stride.

“Oh, OK. What’s his name?” he asked.

“His name is Michael, and he-”

Alice was cut off as Oscar abruptly tripped, landing hard on his knee. Alice gasped and helped him up, and once he was standing she could see a rip in his jeans, with a little bit of red seeping through. Oscar swore.

“I can’t believe what a klutz I’m being tonight! I swear I haven’t skinned my knee since I was ten,” he said.

“I’m so sorry, we’ll get this cleaned up once we get back to my place. Then maybe you should get home before anything else terrible happens!”

When they finally made it back to the apartment, Michael wasn’t there. Alice was a little concerned, because he didn’t leave the apartment much if she wasn’t home, but it was definitely a relief to not have Michael and Oscar meet.

She went to Michael’s room and grabbed one of his polos for Oscar. Oscar was on the shorter side, so the shirt would be a little long on him, but it would work. She returned to the living room and averted her eyes while Oscar changed, busying herself instead with finding the first aid kit. Oscar sat on the couch, his stained shirt bundled up in his lap, and offered his knee to her, which she carefully cleaned with alcohol swabs.

“It’s not too bad, so I’m not going to put a band-aid on it,” she explained after drying the knee. “These kinds of cuts usually heal better if left open to the air, so just make sure to keep it clean.”

Oscar nodded obediently, standing from the couch with a slight wince.

“Got it. Thanks so much, by the way. I’m.. I’m sorry the night has turned out so awful,” he said, looking away from her and scratching his head with one hand.

“Oh, don’t be dramatic,” Alice said, leading Oscar to the door. “It hasn’t been awful. I mean, it sucks that you skinned your knee, and that your shirt was ruined, but… I still had a nice time.”

Oscar was now standing right in her doorway, and she leaned against the doorpost like a girl in a movie, eyelashes fluttery and shy.

“I’m glad,” Oscar said, looking steadily into her eyes with an easy smile.

Maybe it was because she felt bad for him. Maybe it was because he was handsome, and she was a little tipsy. Maybe it was because her dream had her feeling more forward than usual. Regardless, Alice wasn’t quite sure why, but she decided to kiss him at that moment. She leaned forward and pressed her lips carefully to his, and it felt good—warm and soft and welcome. Alice felt him begin to lean a little closer to her, probably intending to prolong the kiss, but she retreated, ending the contact with a smile.

“I’ll talk to you later,” she said, beginning to move backwards in the house a little.

“I’ll call you,” Oscar replied, stepping away from her towards the stairwell.

“Goodnight,” Alice said, then she shut the door.

Not ten minutes after Oscar left, Michael burst through the front door. Alice had been tidying up, and she nearly jumped out of her skin at his abrupt entrance.

“Oh, you’re back!” she said.

He said nothing, his expression stone-faced and cold, as he stalked into the apartment, headed for his bedroom.

“Where were you?” Alice asked.

Michael continued on to his room, and Alice thought he might ignore her completely, but right after he reached his door, he turned back.

“Out,” he said, providing no additional information.

It felt like something must have happened—Michael was a little on the moody side but this still seemed like a rather extreme swing. Alice wondered if he had witnessed her and Oscar’s kiss—he hadn’t returned that long after Oscar had left, after all. She didn’t want to think about why that might upset Michael.

Shaking her head at his melodramatic airs, Alice withdrew to the bathroom to take off her makeup and change into her pajamas. She’d just finished with that, and was about to start brushing her teeth, when another knock at the door interrupted her routine.

A little nervous (who knocked at ten at night?), Alice made her way cautiously back to the living room, trying to make her footfalls soft and quiet. She made it to the door, peeked through the peephole, held her breath, and saw… nothing.

“You’re Alice, right?” an unfamiliar voice said from behind her, and she whirled around, eyes wide.

A striking woman with red hair was sitting on her chair next to the couch. She was beautiful, dressed in a tight black outfit which, while covering a lot of skin, still left little to the imagination. She looked as relaxed and comfortable as could be, as if she regularly popped into strangers homes in the middle of the night.

Alice worked her jaw, but no sound came out. The terror of a complete stranger invading her home via unknown means rendered her speechless. Before she was able to make a response, Michael appeared in the hallway. He turned his head towards the woman as if he had been expecting her the entire time, no surprise registering on his features.

“Ah. So you finally found me,” he said, addressing the woman.

“Yes, we finally did,” she said.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh my goodness, this was a hard chapter to write, but so much fun! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Both Michael and the woman looked completely at ease—Michael leaned against the wall of the hallway, the woman seated on the stuffed chair like Cleopatra on her throne. Despite their relaxed poses, Alice could see the tension in their frames, potential energy ready to be released at a moment’s notice.

Alice, on the other hand, felt like she was falling apart. The appearance of a mysterious stranger in the middle of the night confirmed all of her most outlandish fears about the kinds of dangers her charitable act might invite into her life.

“E-e-excuse me, will someone please tell me what’s going on here?” Alice finally choked out.

Alice remained immobile by the door, unable to convince herself to move further into the room. She could sense she was in an incredibly precarious situation, and her current position was the only place she had empirical evidence would keep her alive, so she stayed put.

“She doesn’t know who you are?” the woman said, addressing Michael.

The lines of his face hardened almost imperceptibly, and he bit out his reply.

“She knows nothing.”

“Easy there, that wasn’t a threat,” the woman said, raising her hands in a placating gesture.

Her words didn’t seem to calm Michael, and he turned towards Alice.

“Alice, go back to your room,” he said, voice commanding.

Fear and frustration warred within Alice. Who was Michael to order her around in her own home? It seemed he was mixed up in more serious issues than she had realized, and if that were the case, she had a right to know about them. Still, Alice was under no illusions as to her safety as this moment. With so much unknown to her, her situation was dicey at best.

She summoned all of the courage she possessed, and drew herself up tall.

“No. I won’t go back to my room. I deserve to know what’s going on,”

“-Alice,” Michael growled, his shoulder leaving the wall as he made as if to cross the room towards her.

“-Don’t worry, I won’t reveal your secret. Or harm her,” the woman in black interjected before Michael could make good on the threat in his voice.

“Come on _Michael_ ,” the woman said, emphasizing his alias. She patted the cushion of the couch next to her. “Sit down. I just want to talk.”

Michael narrowed his eyes at her and glared for a moment, then seemed to make a decision. He lifted his chin and glided over to the couch, retaining as much dignity as possible.

“You too, Alice,” the woman in black said, gesturing once again to the couch.

Walking the fifteen feet from the front door to the couch was probably the most frightening thing Alice had ever done, but somehow she managed it. She seated herself ever-so-carefully on the couch, as far away as possible from both Michael and the woman. She glanced over at Michael after she sat down, hoping he might send her a reassuring smile or nod—some kind of signal that everything would be all right, but he kept his eyes glued to the woman in black.

“Well,” he said finally, “What are you doing here? There must be some reason you couldn’t leave me in peace.”

The woman scoffed.

“Please. Since when have peace and leaving you to your own devices gone together?”

“So you’re here to incarcerate me, I assume,” Michael said, his voice affecting boredom.

 _Incarceration_? Alice thought to herself as her brain frantically tried to interpret their conversation sans-context.

The woman leaned forward, looking up at Michael through her lashes in a way that was somehow threatening rather than flirtatious.

“Believe me, if it were up to me, you’d have been back in a cell months ago.”

Michael smirked.

“But it’s not up to you,” he said.

She leaned back into her chair and crossed her legs.

“No, it’s not. Your people seem to see you as some kind of martyr now, and it’s not worth it to piss them off if you haven’t done anything yet,” she said, staring him down without an ounce of fear in her eyes. “Not to mention your brother wouldn’t be pleased to see you in chains again.”

Michael’s mouth twisted, contorting into a shape that was half-smile, half-grimace.

“I see. So then what is the point of this little house call?” he asked, voice icy.

“Only to let you know that we have eyes on you. You’re free for now, but if you try to disappear again, or set so much as one toe out of line…”

“You’ll catch me, you’ll imprison me, you’ll kill me, and so on and so forth,” he said, rolling his eyes and spinning his hand around his wrist.

The woman smiled.

“I’m glad we’re on the same page,” she said.

“Well lucky for you I’ve abandoned my previous ambitions. You have nothing to fear from me any more.”

“Forgive me for not taking you at your word,” she said dryly.

“I could hardly respect you if you did,” he said.

Alice’s grip on her knees tightened, and her heart raced as he tried to analyze this new information. It was clear that Michael and whatever organization this woman represented had been at odds, but they had just reached a truce of sorts. Michael had made it sound like the woman had the ability to put him in jail, but she certainly didn’t _look_ like she belonged to a government entity. Were they part of organized crime? Was Michael a criminal?

“That’s not… _technically_ the only reason I came,” the woman said, interrupting Alice’s musings. The woman’s speech slowed, and Alice could read the care with which she chose chose each of her following words in her features.

“Your brother still doesn’t know you’re alive,” she said.

“What?” Michael said, sounding truly surprised for the first time in their conversation.

“We didn’t know right away, either. And once we found out, you can imagine we weren’t eager to get involved in your family drama again.”

“I see,” Michael said, stiffly, obviously trying to cover whatever his internal reaction was.

“You should tell him” the woman said, fixing Michael with an expressionless, but somehow still pointed look. Michael looked away from her.

The woman shook her head at his dismissal, then stood, signalling an end to the interview. She walked over to Alice, startling her, and handed her a shiny graphite-colored business card. Alice accepted it robotically, and noted that it bore only a phone number, with no name or other information provided.

“If you need help, call me,” the woman said.

Michael snorted.

“She is under my protection. Why would she require any assistance from you and your merry band of misfits?” he scoffed.

The woman rounded on him, arms crossed, and simply quirked an eyebrow at him.

“You’re right, I can’t imagine who she might need protecting from,” she said.

Michael rolled his eyes.

The woman in black headed for the door, pausing in the doorframe just before departing.

“Remember, one toe out of line…” she said.

Michael sneered back at her, and she returned the sneer with a smile, her beatific grin the last part of her Alice saw before the door closed.

Alice stayed frozen in her position on the couch for a good minute, her thoughts and emotions just as immobile as her muscles as she stared blankly at the business card in her hands. The rustling of Michael’s movement beside here reached her ears, but did not register.

“Well, that went about as well as we could have hoped, I suppose,” he said, and the sound of his voice broke the spell that held Alice captive. She immediately started to cry.

She didn’t sob, or indeed make any noise whatsoever, but thick flows of salty solution trailed down her face, and she started to shake. The immediate threat the stranger in her apartment presented had passed, but though the woman was gone, she had still unalterably shattered the fiction Alice lived with that she was safe within her own home. And, most frightening of all, Alice was aware that perhaps the greatest threat she faced to her personal safety had been brought into her life by her own hand.

Michael scooted closer to her, and she could see the knee of his jeans in her peripheral vision, misty though it was.

“Alice, I am… sorry you had to witness that…” he said, sounding embarrassed. He set a comforting hand on her shoulder, but removed it when she flinched sharply at the contact.

“Alice, wait… She’s not going to come back, you’ll be fine. There’s no need to make a fuss,” Michael said.

While Michael’s words had a melodic, captivating tone to them, Alice almost laughed at how pitifully short the words fell at providing her with any form of reassurement. Instead of laughing, she kept on crying.

Alice wanted to get away from Michael but couldn’t bring herself to move. She wanted to just flee to her room and go to sleep, but what if the woman came back? What if Michael decided he didn’t want to have to deal with her any more and robbed here? Or killed her? Who even knew what he was capable of, after all. A part of her also wanted to run away, but where would she go? She could go to Barb, or Jim and Carrie, but how would she explain herself? The humiliation of admitting to them that she may have made a mistake in taking him in was almost more painful than whatever he might do to her.

Of course, she could always just continue on as she had been before. Perhaps this was all a big misunderstanding. She’d been living with Michael for over three months now, and despite his sometimes obnoxious behavior, he’d seemed perfectly safe. He’d never laid a hand on her, or threatened her, or even yelled at her. But given all that she had heard today, she would be a fool to continue blindly trusting him.

While these thoughts circled about in Alice’s mind, Michael’s hands hovered awkwardly over her, wanting to do something to help, but afraid of inadvertently exacerbating matters.

“You’re going to be safe, Alice. I promise. I will protect you,” he said, and his words fell like silver from his tongue. Almost, Alice was convinced that he was right, that she would be OK, that he would keep her safe. Then she remembered the conversation from only a few minutes earlier.

Alice stuffed the business card in the pocket of her sweatshirt, wiped the snot away from under her nose, and rubbed the tears from her eyes, determined to pull herself together. She angled her body towards Michael and looked him in the eyes.

“What is your real name?” she asked.

The corners of Michael’s mouth fell, but he held her gaze.

“I can’t tell you that,” he said flatly.

His voice no longer retained that buttery smooth texture, but somehow Alice found this comforting. This felt more genuine, more truthful.

“Why not?” countered Alice, her voice growing firmer.

“It’s not safe.”

“For who?”

“For you!” Michael snapped back, apparently losing patience with her line of questioning.

Alice waited a moment for him to calm down again, utilizing tactics she had learned when serving in the pediatric ward.

“Why would it not be safe for me to know your name, Michael?” she asked, feeling a little more in control.

At that, Michael paused for a moment to consider his answer.

“If I were to get in trouble, the less you knew about me the better. The less likely you would be to have to… partake in my ruin,” he said soberly.

Alice thought about his answer. It made sense but… it was rather ominous. What kind of trouble might he get into? In addition, his plan required her to completely trust him. How could she, given the present circumstances?

“I would still rather know. I have a right to understand what’s going on, to know what I am getting into,” she said.

“All you need to know is that I will protect you,” he said, his voice regaining that achingly soothing quality. He leaned further into her. “ _Trust me_ , Alice. I have the power to keep you safe.”

“Trust you? Believe you? That is all I have been doing since we first met! You didn’t tell me your name—I trusted that you had a good reason, that you were still recovering, and I let it slide. You didn’t tell me anything about your past—I trusted that you would tell me when you were ready, and I took you into my home. You haven’t explained anything about who you are or what your plans are—I trusted that you would not take advantage of me, I took care of you. At every turn I have trusted, and at every turn you have given me nothing in return. At a certain point, I would have to be the world’s biggest idiot to keep trusting you!”

Michael seemed taken aback by her strong response, and he jerked away from her as if he’d been slapped. For a moment, she could see surprise and hurt in his eyes. They even looked a little glassy, like he was about to cry. Then, the glassiness hardened, like ice on a cold winter night.

“Fine. Don’t trust me,” he spat out, his melodic voice turned to venom. “You’re right, you’d be a fool to trust me. You have been a fool to trust me.”

As he spoke, he slowly rose from his seat, drawing closer to Alice as he loomed over her. His eyes were harsh and unforgiving, and the tension in his muscles and stance held the promise of violence. Alice’s own eyes widened in fear and horror. Was _this_ what she had been housing all these months? She sank into the couch, trying to get as far away from him as possible, but she knew in her heart of hearts that if he wished her any harm, there was nothing she could do about it. She squeezed her eyes shut, and mumbled a quick, potentially futile prayer for safety.

Nothing happened. Alice waited for… something. More eviscerating words, a smarting blow, _something_ , but nothing happened.

Cautiously, she opened her eyes, and saw Michael back on his side of the couch, limp and sunken into the cushions. She waited for him to move or say something, but he just lay there, like he had back in the hospital.

“...Michael?” she said.

Slowly, his head lolled over in her direction, and Alice sucked in a puff of air at the pain and self-loathing evident on his face.

“Alice,” he croaked, and she’d definitely never heard him croak before. He’d shmooze, he’d sneer, he’d scoff, he’d quip, but _never_ croak. “Alice, I know I should go. You don’t deserve this kind of havoc in your short, pitiful life. But... I don’t know where to go.”

Nothing had changed. Michael hadn’t given her any of the information she was looking for, he’d insulted her, and she knew she shouldn’t, but she felt her heart softening for him. She sighed and stood from the couch, taking a step towards him.

“Let’s talk about this in the morning. We… might be able to work something out. But don’t… _don’t_ come at me like that again,” she said.

Alice was 80% sure she was making a mistake. The whole situation was reminding her way too much of the excuses women who came into the hospital with black eyes gave for returning home to abusive spouses. Still, she wasn’t saying he could stay. She was just delaying the decision until tomorrow. That thought gave her some small measure of comfort.

Michael slowly nodded his head, although he made no move to get up from the couch.

“I will wait until the morning, then,” he said.

Alice turned and left him there, going to her room and shutting the door behind her. She knew it probably wouldn’t make a difference, but she locked the door.

\---

Alice woke early the next morning. As soon as she’d returned to her room the previous night, the adrenalin had fled her body, leaving her completely exhausted, so she’d been able to sleep surprisingly well. After she woke and readied herself for the day, Alice floated about her apartment in a haze, her surroundings feeling both hyper-real and insubstantial. Without really thinking about what she was doing or why, she wandered over to the kitchen sink and started washing dishes, the repetitive motions soothing her dazed mind.

She was almost done with the dishes when she heard Michael approaching her from behind. She could hear his footfalls, but her brain did nothing with the information, and she was surprised when she felt his hands on her upper arms. He was barely touching her, his hands just ghosting over her biceps, but the contact was shocking.

Slowly, he moved his hands down to her elbows, then back up to her shoulders, just barely grazing her skin. He continued the stroking motion, and while a small corner of Alice’s brain screamed at her to get away, the rest of her mindlessly savored the soothing contact.

He leaned closer to her, and his breath on her neck made her hair stand on end.

“Are you feeling well?” he murmured, his captivating voice sounding close to her ear.

Alice responded unthinkingly, but truthfully.

“No.”

The pressure of his hands on her arms increased slightly, morphing the motion into more of a massage.

“You have no need to fear. I am here, and all will be well,” he said.

The words sunk deep into Alice’s mind, and as they settled there, they became true. Where moments before she had felt empty, now she was full. A deep sense of well-being washed over her, warming her to her toes, and she closed her eyes. She leaned back, and rested against Michael’s chest.

He bowed his head closer to her neck, and his lips grazed her skin at his next words.

“ _Trust me_ ,” he whispered.

Alice fell out of the trance just as a person wakes upon falling in a dream. Her heavy eyes jolted open, and she stiffened in Michael’s arms. Sensing her unease, Michael took a step away from her, and released her arms. She spun around to face him.

“Wha- what are you doing?” she stuttered.

“You seemed distressed. I was only trying to comfort you,” he said.

“Y-you need to remember my personal space, OK? Remember what I said last night?” Alice said.

“I… apologize. It will not happen again,” he said carefully, and as he said it he looked at her hard, as if utterly confused by her reaction.

Alice shook her head, then marched past him, abandoning the remaining dishes and heading for her room.

“Where are you going?” Michael called after her.

“I’m going for a run” she responded as she searched out her running shoes. “I need some air.”

\---

Running immediately helped. Getting outside, being by herself, feeling the breeze against her face all had her feeling more real and alive than she had since the woman in black had appeared in her apartment. The summer it seemed was beginning to turn, and it was an unseasonably cool day, but the chill wind attacked her skin in an invigorating manner. It also helped to see visual proof that there was a whole world outside of Michael and his problems. There were actually 8 billion other people besides him on this planet alone, and who even knew how many there were in the universe.

Alice still didn’t know what she was going to do, but she was feeling more in control, and had begun to formulate a plan. The plan would essentially be that Michael needed to provide her with specific information and follow certain rules if he was going to continue to stay with her. She also planned on talking to the cops, and letting them know about her situation. She’d provide them with a picture of Michael, and any details she knew about him so they could check if he was in their database or not. Alice was not done being kind, but she was done being naive.

Around mile three, Alice was beginning to feel genuinely optimistic. Things were going to work out—she was in control. She decided to stop by a bodega to get herself a congratulatory Gatorade, but she paused just outside of the door.

Taped to the inside of the glass door, along with a hodgepodge of other posters and flyers and advertisements, was a banner that read “NY LOVES THE AVENGERS,” along with a photo of said heroes on a rubble-filled street. After the invasion, New Yorker support for the Avengers was at an all-time high, and these posters had been plastered all over the city by citizens wanting to show their appreciation. As the years passed, they weren’t as common a sight any more, but Alice still saw them around. That was why it shocked her so much when she realized she recognized someone on the poster.

The woman in black.

Gatorade forgotten, Alice backed away from the door, her hard-earned sense of confidence and optimism evaporating. Michael had been in trouble with _the Avengers_?

Alice’s fight or flight instincts kicked in, and she picked flight. She ran, away from the bodega, away from the poster. She’d been running for five minutes before she decided she ought to settle on a destination, and she decided to run to Jim and Carrie’s house.

As she ran, she thought. The Avengers were earth’s last line of defense. They only involved themselves in next-level calamities. If Michael had got on their bad side, Alice didn’t even want to imagine what he had done. What’s more, he hadn’t seemed intimidated by the woman in black, who Alice now realized was called Black Widow. What… what kind of a person was he?

Even though she hadn’t run more than three miles at a time in over a year, Alice ran all five miles to Jim and Carrie’s apartment, the churning of her thoughts distracting her from the pounding of her feet.

Alice rang the buzzer at her brother-in-law’s house, and thanked her lucky stars that Carrie was home. She flew up the three flights of stairs to their floor, and Carrie opened the door to reveal a sweaty, jittery Alice.

“Alice! We weren’t expecting you!” Carrie said in surprise.

“I… I know, I’m sorry. I got in a fight with Michael. Would you mind if I stayed here for a little while?”

“Of course not! Come on in,” Carrie said, ushering in here sister-in-law.

Carrie was tactful and generous, and didn’t ask Alice to explain herself further. She got Alice situated on the couch in their living room with a glass of water and a granola bar, and went to get her a change of clothes. Alice tried to ignore the pitying look in Carrie’s eyes, but she knew Carrie was right. She was pitiful.

From the couch, Alice let herself wallow in it a little. She had thought that if she executed her plan, she could be kind to Michael, keep herself safe, and stay in her home, but now she didn’t even see how she could return to her apartment. She thanked God that she had at least brought her cellphone with her, but she didn’t have her wallet. Aside from her running clothes, shoes, phone, keys, and sweatshirt, she had nothing.

Her sweatshirt.

An idea formed in Alice’s mind, and she shoved her hand in the pocket of her sweatshirt, stabbing the skin of her palm against the sharp corner of the business card from the woman in black. Glancing around to see where Carrie had gone, Alice let herself out onto their balcony, and punched in the number from the gleaming black business card. It rang three times, then someone picked up.

_“Hello? Alice Wakefield?”_

Alice didn’t even question how Black Widow knew it was her.

“Yes, this is Alice. I, uh… Can we talk?”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this chapter took so long! Work, writer’s block, various excuses, etc. etc. Also I’ve been trying to make Loki’s thought process/growth implicit, but my husband read the story last week and upon interrogation, I discovered that a lot of what’s going on in Loki’s brain went right over my husband’s head. Are the hints and implications as to what Loki is going through too subtle? Should I make things more obvious? Feedback would be much appreciated!

It was gloomy out, so the park in which Alice waited for the Avenger wasn’t very crowded. Alice sat on the bench Black Widow had specified, feeling uncomfortable both with the situation, and with the ill-fitting pants and shirt she’d borrowed from Carrie.

Black Widow had set up the meeting for the day following Alice’s initial call, so Alice had spent the previous night at Jim and Carrie’s house, the two of them generously offering her food and space, and not demanding answers. Alice had called work to let them know she was taking the week off to deal with a family emergency. She knew it was a jerk move to force her coworkers to scramble to cover her shifts, but Alice figured this was a pretty singular situation, and she hadn’t taken a vacation in years.

Michael hadn’t called her, of course, since he didn’t have a phone. He had, however, sent her several emails, which surprised her. A couple of months earlier she’d helped him set up an email account (if he’d had one before The Snap, he either didn’t remember it or didn’t want to use it), and he’d used that account to write her. Alice received the first email the prior evening, just after she’d finished eating dinner with Jim and Carrie. It had been cordial, and weirdly formal, as if he’d followed a third grader’s letter-writing template.

____________________________________________________________________________

From: **Michael**

to: **me** Sunday 9:16 PM

_Dear Alice,_

_It’s getting late. Will you be returning home tonight? I hope you are well._

_Sincerely,_

_Michael_

The second email had come that morning, and was a little less polite.

____________________________________________________________________________  
From: **Michael**  
to **me** Monday 6:57 AM

_Dear Alice,_

_You must find this entertaining, disappearing without a word and watching me squirm. Well, I am glad you are enjoying yourself. I won’t be looking for you._

_Michael_

The third email had arrived only a half hour before Alice set out to meet Black Widow, and it was the one that affected her the most.

____________________________________________________________________________  
From: **Michael**  
to **me** Monday 2:02 PM

_Alice,_

_Please, just let me know if you are well. Has someone threatened you? Are you in any danger? I cannot find you._

_Michael_

Alice didn’t respond to any of them, of course. As she sat on the bench waiting for Black Widow, she resisted the urge to read them again in an attempt to track the pattern of Michael’s volatile emotions.

She waited anxiously, checking her watch every thirty seconds, and for ten minutes she was alone. She’d pulled out her phone, and was considering calling Black Widow to double-check the location when she heard footsteps behind her. Craning her neck behind her, she spotted a woman who was about Black Widow’s size and shape headed her way. Upon closer inspection, Alice recognized the woman’s features as matching the notorious Avenger, but today Black Widow had bleached blond hair, was wearing frumpy, baggy clothing, and somehow looked significantly older. Alice supposed it made sense that she could alter her appearance so effectively—the woman was a spy, after all.

Black Widow took a seat next to Alice on the bench, smiling warmly at her as if they were old friends.

“I’m glad you decided to meet me,” she said, and Alice nodded.

“Well, when I realized who you are, it seemed like a good idea,” Alice replied.

“Yes. I probably should have introduced myself, but I don’t like telling people who I am. Force of habit,” Black Widow said.

Alice looked at the woman for a long moment, then turned her gaze towards her hands in her lap. There was so much she wanted to know, but now that she finally had a chance to get answers, it was difficult to know where to start. As she pulled at a thread on the sleeve of Carrie’s shirt, she decided she’d ask the simplest question first.

“Who is Michael really?” Alice said, forcing herself to look up from her lap and at the super spy seated next to her. Without hesitation, Black Widow responded.

“I can’t tell you that.”

Alice groaned in frustration, and held her head in her hands.

“Why does everyone keep saying that?”

Unruffled by her outburst, Black Widow continued.

“I can imagine how frustrating this might feel, but Michael is an incredibly dangerous individual, and the fewer people know who and where he is, the better. For everyone,” Black Widow said.

Alice lifted her head from her hands and turned back towards the spy, resisting the urge to scream.

“If he is so dangerous,” she said evenly, “then why is he still _living in my apartment_? It seems like you guys have known he’s there for some time now. Couldn’t you have arrested him, or at least… put him somewhere safer?” she said.

Black Widow frowned.

“Like I said yesterday, there are political reasons we can’t bring him in right now. What I can tell you is this: Michael is an extremely intelligent, manipulative, and volatile individual. He has done a lot of terrible things, a lot of things that should put him in prison, if we’re being honest. However, more recently he has been… cooperative. I hate to give him any credit,” she said, pursing her lips, “but his actions saved a lot of lives.”

Alice’s generous, trusting soul latched on to that last sentence. Michael had saved a lot of lives? What had he done? Perhaps he was trying to make up for his checkered past? Then she caught herself. The “extremely intelligent, manipulative, and volatile” part of the sentence was definitely more important. _You’re done being naive, remember_? she told herself.

“This is all fascinating, but what does it have to do with me and why you left me with a person you describe as ‘incredibly dangerous?’” Alice said, the words coming out a little harsher than she’d intended.

“I’m getting to that. Basically, Michael would be extremely difficult to detain long-term. Not only that, but detaining him could antagonize him, which would also be lead to trouble. Before The Snap, he’d done some decent, even somewhat heroic things, then after The Return, he lived with you, and he laid low. He didn’t cause any problems for six months. It seems like he’s… rehabilitating. The current situation is pretty much ideal for us, which is why we haven’t interfered so far.”

Alice blinked in shock. She had always understood that the Avengers worked for the benefit of all, even if that sometimes meant life was harder for some people. She’d just never before considered that she might end of in the latter group.

“So you let me live with a crazy criminal for three months because it was convenient? Because he hadn’t snapped and killed anyone yet?” she demanded.

Black Widow’s eye flashed dangerously.

“First of all, we only located Michael a month ago. Second of all, nobody forced you to bring him home and adopt him like he was a stray cat. The Avengers aren’t responsible for your stupid decisions.”

Alice flushed, the stupidity of talking back to a person who could probably snap her neck in a second finally dawning upon her. Black Widow sighed, and crossed her arms, leaning back into the bench.

“Look, I’m not trying to push you around, I’m here to help you. If you want to leave and never see Michael again, you can do that, and we’ll help you. But if you choose to stay, you will be helping the Avengers keep the world safe, you will have support and backup from our organization, and you will receive $50,000 a month in compensation.”

The world froze around Alice. _$50,000 a month?_ That was almost her entire year’s salary.

“For the first month we can give you $200,000, and then $50,000 a month every month after that,” Black Widow continued, and Alice’s eyes bugged out, despite her attempts to play it cool.

After the initial shock of the potential financial windfall had passed, Alice was able to actually consider the offer. That amount of money, on a regular basis, would undoubtedly change her life. At the same time, was any amount of money worth risking her life? And… and for that matter, how much would the money really change things? $600,000 a year would mean she could move into a nicer apartment, eat out more, maybe retire, but what would that signify? Alice’s mother, and Jim and Carrie, and Barb, were all comfortable in their lives, and Alice didn’t have a family of her own to take care of. It was a little depressing to realize, but Alice was already pretty content with her life, and didn’t really have anyone else to spend the money on.

Reading the thoughts on Alice’s face, Black Widow spoke again.

“I can understand if you don’t want to do this. I really do. But you should know that you wouldn’t be putting yourself in harm’s way just for money. If Michael is successfully rehabilitated, that removes a significant risk to humanity, and resolves a significant problem for the Avengers and their allies. Giving him the opportunity to recover in a new environment, in a place free from his baggage and where he feels comfortable—that could be a game changer,” she said.

Alice took a deep breath. She mulled over Black Widow’s words, rolling them around in her mouth as if she could discern their sincerity via taste. Unfortunately for her, her taste buds had no truth-revealing capabilities.

“Forgive me for asking, but… how do I know that what you’re telling me is true? That this isn’t some sort of… elaborate ruse?” Alice asked.

Black Widow shrugged her shoulders a little, looking upward as one side of her mouth quirked.

“Healthy skepticism. I like that,” she said. “I guess I could arrange for you to go to Stark Tower, and talk with Tony, or maybe Steve. That might take some time, though. Would a phone call from one of them work?”

Alice’s eyes widened at the mention of the two most famous Avengers—probably the two most famous people in the world. She nodded her head mutely.

“Great,” Black Widow said. “Now in the meantime, assuming I am who I say I am, and nobody is scamming you, what do you think?”

Alice closed her eyes, trying to block out any extraneous information while she pondered what could potentially be the most important decision of her life. Black Widow’s second entreaty, asserting that Alice’s assistance could be beneficial in a non-trivial way to all of mankind, was significantly more persuasive to Alice than the monetary reward. She also thought that, if anyone should put themselves in harm’s way for the greater good, it might as well be her. She could count on one hand the number of people who would be significantly affected by her death, after all.

At the same time, it wasn’t as if Alice had a death wish. No matter the potential benefit, she didn’t want to go home to Michael if there was a greater than 10% chance of her dying. But how could she possibly know the risk? She’d known Michael for six months without him exhibiting any propensity towards violence, but Black Widow had said that he had changed a great deal after The Snap. Supposedly her mission would be to help Michael recover, but what if recovery for Michael meant returning to his destructive ways?

Alice could feel Black Widow’s cool grey eyes on her. Alice felt as if she needed to answer quickly, but in that same moment she was conscious that no amount of time would allow her to feel confident in her decision. Upon making this realization, she decided to make the decision as quickly as possible, since further deliberation would be fruitless.

“How did you decide to… you know... Risk your life for others?” Alice asked Black Widow eventually, turning towards the spy.

Black Widow returned Alice’s gaze with an even, opaque look.

“I didn’t have much of a choice, to be honest. I was put in a situation where I could help, and I did. Someone needed to do something, why not me?”

Alice closed her eyes and bowed her head, lacing her fingers together in her lap. She made her decision, almost on a whim it felt, but as soon as she made it, certainty grew within her that whether or not the choice was correct, it was what she must do.

“OK. I’ll do it.”

\---

Late that night, Alice shut the front door behind her and stepped cautiously into her apartment. There was something defeating about having to tiptoe around her own home, as if she had accidentally ceded the rights to her land to an unwelcome interloper, but she felt a little more confident now, knowing that she had the Avengers behind her.

Only a half hour after her meeting with Natasha (as Black Widow had requested Alice call her), Alice had received a brief but spirited Facetime from Tony Stark, who assured her that Natasha was on official Avengers business, and that they would have her back.

_While Alice tripped over her words and tried not to drop her phone, Tony Stark got into a car, probably off to some gala or fundraiser or top-secret meeting._

_“It would be great if you could help us out on this.” Stark said, “Your little houseguest has been a major pain in the ass.”_

The call had been short, but it had seriously increased Alice’s confidence that she truly was working with the Avengers, and that this whole situation might result in a positive outcome.

Alice flicked on the lights, and the state of her living space brought her back to the present in a most unfortunate way. The apartment was a mess. Furniture had been thrown around, cups and plates lay broken on the floor, her bills had been strewn about. Michael had apparently not held back. Alice began to doubt that he was even there anymore, when he appeared in the hallway like a ghost.

“Alice,” he said, his voice feeble, “you’ve come back.”

Alice took several careful, dainty steps further into the apartment, worried about stepping on shards of porcelain or whatnot. She noticed a broken picture frame on the ground, and grimaced as she recognized one of her favorite wedding photos through the cracked glass, but she swallowed the frown, returning her face to an even neutral. She compartmentalized any concerns she felt, and told herself over and over again that she was confident and in control.

“Yes, I just spent the night with Jim and Carrie. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” she said coolly.

The wrinkles of tension on his forehead smoothed, and for a moment Alice thought she read relief in his features. Then, the relief was gone, replaced by a cold, cruel look. Alice stiffened at his menacing gaze, her fingers unconsciously curling around the small syringe she held in the pocket of her sweatshirt.

_“If you ever feel like you’re in danger, stab him with this,” Natasha said after arranging their next meeting. “It should knock him out for at least a couple of hours, then call me and we’ll come and extract him.”_

_Alice took the syringe Natasha handed her, holding it gingerly between her thumb and index finger and examining it._

_“Make sure you don’t stick anyone else with it, though. It would probably kill them,” Natasha said._

_At that, Alice looked up sharply at the spy, the gears in her mind turning._

_“Is Michael… human?” she asked, not sure she wanted to know the answer to that question._

_Natasha’s composure did not alter, although her mouth twisted a little into a wry smile._

_“Not exactly, no.”_

“Well, I’m glad you’re not dead in a ditch somewhere,” Michael said, returning Alice’s thoughts to the here and now. His voice was unfriendly and bitter, but did not sound violent. She let her grip on the syringe loosen a little.

“Next time kindly inform me before you wander off so I’ll know I need to make my own food,” he continued acidly, then he spun around and stalked back to his room, shutting the door firmly behind him.

As soon as his door clicked shut, Alice let out the breath she’d been holding since she’d walked into the apartment. Their first meeting after her flight was what worried her most—it was when he would be at his most unpredictable. Now that that was over with, she felt that she would be reasonably safe. Feeling stiff, tired, and emotionally drained, Alice walked to her room and picked out some fresh clothes, feeling grungy in the dirty running clothes she’d changed back into before returning home. She took a quick shower, then escaped to her room, falling asleep almost instantly. She knew there was more she needed to talk with Michael about, but clearly neither of them was in the proper state of mind for a difficult discussion. There’d be time for that tomorrow.

\---

The next morning, the fear that had served as Alice’s constant companion since Natasha first appeared in her apartment two nights earlier was still there, but it was subdued. Alice sat up in her bed and followed her usual crisis-handling routine: ten minutes of freaking out, then control.

She still had a week off work, which time she intended to use to lay down some ground rules with Michael, and spend some time with Barb and Jim and Carrie. Today, though, she’d probably spend most of the day repairing the mess Michael had made the day before.

Alice’s phone dinged before she’d finished changing into her favorite cleaning clothes, and she saw a new email from her bank. At a glance it didn’t look like the normal emails she got, telling her that her payment had been received or informing her of an exciting new credit card offer, so she opened it. And there it was. A notice of a $200,000 deposit into her account.

Alice sat down on her bed, only one arm through her t-shirt, and gawked at the screen of her phone. No matter how long she stared at the pixels, the number didn’t change. Natasha had been serious about compensation, it seemed.

Feeling lighter than air, Alice set her phone down and finished dressing. Were it not for the heavy weight of the syringe in the pocket of her sweatpants, she’d probably have floated into the living room. The day decided to astonish and delight her at every turn, for in the living room she found everything as it should be, with not a picture frame, cup, or chair out of place. Alice walked over to the counter, where the favorite wedding photo that had lain smashed on the ground the day before sat, whole and perfect.

Eyes widening, she turned towards the stuffed chair in the corner of the room that Michael favored, and found him seated there, studying her reactions with carefully-measured curiosity.

“You fixed everything” she said, her brow furrowing, “how did you do that?”

He brought one hand to his chin and smirked at her.

“I think we both know by now that I am no ordinary man,” he said. “Isn’t that what your new agent friend told you yesterday?”

Alice could feel the blood draining from her face even as she attempted to school her features.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said.

“Why did you come back? Are you going to spy on me for them? Are you going to try to befriend me? To _tame me_?” he asked, sounding amused.

The realization had been slowly dawning on Alice over the past several weeks, but at that moment Alice truly understood how much she preferred him mute and motionless.

Her hand went to the syringe in her pocket, and Michael’s gaze immediately followed the movement, eyes narrowing as he zeroed in on the fingers Alice dug into the soft fabric in search of her only protection. Alice saw immediately that the move had been a mistake—that she had already given away one of her only cards. The syringe was useless unless she was able to sneak up on him, to surprise him with it. She swallowed, then slowly removed her hand from her pocket, and Michael relaxed.

Alice’s mind raced as she tried to decide what to do. She could lie, play dumb, and try to find a moment by herself to call Natasha and request aid. That was probably the best course of action, but Alice knew that Michael would never fall for any deception from her. Alice wasn’t a very good liar, and Michael was an extremely keen observer, his sharp eyes seeming to cut through all manner of falsehood. She could tell him the truth, but then how would he react? He must be glad that the Avengers didn’t plan to arrest him, but how would he feel about their monitoring of him? Of their interference in his life? But at the same time, he already knew they were watching him. While her meeting with Natasha had changed a great deal for Alice, it didn’t really alter Michael’s situation much.

“What do you want, Michael?” she finally said, hoping that if she understood his aims, she could find a way to frame their situation more positively. “Do you want to be here? Do you want me to leave? I don't… I don’t know what you want, and I’m afraid.”

Michael seemed confused by the question, but he recovered quickly. He stood from his seat and set his arms behind his back, walking lazily towards Alice but maintaining a safe distance between them.

“What do I want? I simply want you to be honest with me. I do not want to hear any lies—not from you.”

Alice swallowed thickly. She didn’t see many other options, and Natasha had not actually asked Alice to keep their conversation from Michael, so she opted for honesty.

“While I was on my run, I realized who the woman in black was, and I called the card she gave me. I met with her yesterday,” Alice said, trying to keep her tone even and truthful-sounding. If she was too nervous, she worried he wouldn’t believe her, whether she was telling the truth or not.

Alice glanced at Michael, and he nodded to her to continue.

“She didn’t tell me who you are, but she told me you were dangerous. She said you were dangerous, but that you might be changing, and that the Avengers wanted you to stay here for now. She offered me money to continue to keep you here, and she said I could call her for backup if I needed it.”

Michael paced as she talked, ending up standing over by the counter where her wedding photo sat. He focused on it, his fingers unconsciously reaching out to stroke the metal frame as he listened. When she finished, he looked back up at her, his expression unreadable.

“As I expected. Unfortunately, I have no interest in being your pawn,” he said.

So surprised was Alice at Michael’s words that she let out an involuntary snort, and his eyes narrowed at her once more.

“What? Does my predicament amuse you?” he said.

“N-no,” she said, stiffening once again at his harsh gaze. “I just… You don’t seem like much of a pawn. If anything, I’m the pawn. All I wanted was to help you, and now I’m trapped in this impossible situation.”

Michael frowned, turning from her, but Alice thought she could see him mulling her words over. She thought about Michael—about what she knew about him—and tried to imagine how he might be feeling. He was obviously a powerful person, and he did not like to feel like he was being controlled by anyone. Over the past several months, whenever she’d asked him to do something, he would comply, but throw his own little vexing twist into the request. Sometimes he’d deliberately misunderstand vague instructions, sometimes he’d do what she asked but then do something in addition that somewhat undid his work. At first she’d thought it was just to annoy her, but perhaps it was more to demonstrate that he was his own master. Her having taken care of him—that must have rankled him. And the thought that she might have done it under someone else’s orders, in order to monitor and control him, that must have stung even more.

“N-nobody asked me to bring you home,” Alice said, “including you. It was something I took upon myself, perhaps foolishly, but it was a decision I made, and a decision that I hold myself accountable for. Black Widow offered to provide me with some help, which honestly I could use, but she doesn’t own me. And you… you don’t owe me. I know very well you could leave whenever you want. You’re perfectly capable. But if you want to stay… you’re welcome to.”

Michael’s back remained towards her, and Alice had no indication that he had listened to a word of what she’d said. She wasn’t entirely she what she’d said, either. Halfway through her speech she felt herself beginning to ramble, the thoughts she was expressing true and honest, but somehow painting around the idea she was trying to convey.

“I will stay,” Michael said, his head turning so his angular, precise profile came into view, “for now.”

Alice nodded, wondering how things had been twisted about to the point that his remaining in her home was a relief.

“OK,” she replied.

\---

Humans crave familiarity, regular schedules, and consistency, which fact Alice realized as she and Michael quickly returned to their old patterns of living. Although their relationship and their perceptions of each other had shifted in monumental and inalterable ways, their daily ways of interacting had hardly changed. Alice still took Michael out with her to get groceries or to do laundry, and Michael still lay about most days, reading or watching movies, helping and hindering Alice in equal parts.

Of course, those minute details that did change were telling. Alice now always carried the weight of the small syringe on her, sometimes in her pocket, sometimes hidden in her waistband, a handful of times even in her bra, but always there. Michael on the other hand was more open with his supernatural abilities. He never explained to Alice exactly what he could do, and she never asked, but now he would change his appearance in her presence, or create an illusion of an apple and chuckle at her when her fingers passed through the apparition.

The money also did not affect Alice’s life much, just as she’d expected. She did buy some more expensive groceries at the store (like her favorite wine, or fresh blueberries), but she had to consciously remind herself that she could spend more. Her natural inclination was to live just as frugally as she had before, and she found she didn’t desire to change that too much. She did, however, send several thousand dollars to her mom. Alice’s mother had wanted to retire several years ago, but was still working on saving up enough money, and Alice wanted to be able to contribute. She knew if she sent too much at once, her mother wouldn’t accept, but if Alice could parcel out the $200,000 gradually, perhaps her mom would be more reasonable.

Alice soon went back to work, which helped immensely to take her mind off of Michael and the giant question mark he represented in her life and future. The night before she was to return to work, she also received a text message from Oscar, asking about returning the shirt he’d borrowed and maybe going on a second date. In all the chaos of that night and the subsequent days, Alice’s date with Oscar had completely slipped her mind, and the overwhelming normalcy of his text was staggering. She puzzled over how to respond to him for some time—now that she understood the dangers Michael represented, would it be responsible to bring anyone else into close proximity with him? Of course, she and Oscar could always go on a date far away from the apartment, but would that be enough? And if it wasn’t enough, did Alice need to cut herself off from _everyone_?

In the end, she asked Oscar if he could meet her the next week downtown for coffee. It felt like a de-escalation, and it would be far away from home. She could get the shirt back, chat, and let him down easy.

It wasn’t that she didn’t like Oscar. He was a really nice guy, and though she still didn’t know him well, she could see them growing closer, even becoming an item. It was just that now was really not the right time. Oscar was too nice a guy to get mixed up with Michael and all of his issues.

\---

Alice’s third day back at work was tougher than she’d thought it would be. Multiple patients had been belligerent with her, and she’d had to deal with several coworkers’ subtle digs at her for bailing on them the week before. By the time she got home, she just wanted to pull off her scrubs, take a hot shower, and go right to bed, but as soon as she opened the front door, she saw that that was not going to happen.

The sight that greeted Alice in her living room was one she had seen before only in her worst nightmares. Michael sat in his customary chair, and Alice’s mother, Kathy, sat on the couch. They were both holding glasses of wine, and seemed to be chatting merrily. As Alice’s eyes widened and her bag fell to the floor, Kathy twisted her head around mid-laugh to see who it was, and she jumped up from her place on the couch.

“Alice!” Kathy said, running towards her daughter and bringing her in for a hug, “It’s me! Surprise!”

 _So much for keeping the people I care about at a distance_ , Alice thought ruefully, shooting Michael a dirty look over her mother’s shoulder. A small smirk was visible on Michael’s face before he took another sip of his wine.

“Mom! It’s… so good to see you!” Alice said, pulling back from the hug to look her mom in the face. Under pretty much any other circumstances, those words would have been true.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: there is violence in this chapter. I don't think it's especially violent, but it's there. Let me know what you think of the pacing in this chapter, I’m a little worried it might be jarring. Thanks so much for the reviews and support!

“I was planning on spending summer break taking care of my garden, I really was,” Kathy was saying over a forkful of the Thai takeout Alice had ordered for dinner, “but then I thought, ‘Do I really want to have to wait until Christmas to see my favorite daughter?’ ”

“Your _only_ daughter,” Alice muttered, picking halfheartedly at her Pad See Ew.

She didn’t mean to sound resentful. If only her mother had decided to take her little vacation four or five months earlier, Alice would have been unreservedly thrilled. If only Michael wasn’t also in her apartment, then this would have been a much less stressful situation.

“Well, I am so pleased that you took it upon yourself to come, Kathy,” Michael said with a warm smile. “I’ve heard so much about you from Alice, and I feared we would never have an opportunity to meet.”

Alice’s eyes narrowed, and she shot him a sideways glance. Michael had been incredibly, strangely courteous and welcoming to Kathy, and it rubbed Alice the wrong way. Alice had seen him turn on the charm before—with cashiers at the grocery store, or people at the laundromat—but he’d never exercised his gift for cajolery with Alice before. She was glad he was being kind to her mother, but something about his deference felt false and off-putting. What was she supposed to say about it, though? “Stop being so nice to my mom”?

Kathy was, of course, completely charmed by Michael. She laughed and, loosened up a little by the wine, leaned over and laid a hand on Michael’s arm.

“Well I’m so glad I got a chance to meet you too, Michael! Based on what Alice told me, I expected you to be bedridden, or mute, or something like that. But you seem perfectly healthy.”

Michael smiled easily at Kathy and patted her hand with his other hand.

“Well in all fairness, that description was very apt when Alice first took me in. I have recovered marvelously under her care, and although I probably no longer require her assistance, Alice has found some, ahem, uses for me.”

Alice choked on a noodle, and Kathy’s eyebrows raised as she turned back to her daughter.

“Alice?!” she said, the question obvious in the tone of her voice.

Alice coughed and shook her head as she attempted to dislodge the errant noodle, waving her hands in protest.

“No, mom, he doesn’t mean anything by that,” Alice assured her once she could breathe again.

Kathy gave her daughter a skeptical look.

“You know you can tell me if you have any news,” Kathy said, lowering her voice and leaning towards Alice.

“I really, really don’t have any news like that, mom. He’s just teasing me, OK? Don’t worry about it,” Alice said.

The lines of consternation gradually faded from Kathy’s face as her features slowly registered acceptance, much to Alice’s relief. Then Kathy turned back to Michael.

“So if that’s the case, when are you moving out? I mean, I assume you’ll want to get your own place eventually, if you don’t have a home to go back to,” she said.

Alice set her fork down on her plate and look at Michael, arms crossed.

“That’s a great question. When _are_ you leaving, Michael?”

Alice really shouldn’t be giving Michael a hard time about leaving since she had basically committed to keeping him in her apartment for the foreseeable future, but he’d been intentionally putting her in an uncomfortable spot all night, and it was beginning to piss her off.

Michael cleared his throat, carefully studying the box of sticky rice as he helped himself to another serving.

“Ah, well, we’re working on that. For now, though, I think both of us appreciate being able to share the burden of rent,” he said.

Alice saw red. Honestly, suggesting that he helped her pay rent was a smart move—it was one of the only logical ways to explain his continued presence in her apartment aside from the obvious and desperately to-be-avoided romantic explanation. But still, it rankled her that he would suggest that he contributed to the rent when he did literally nothing all day. If there was anything that drove her crazy, it was other people taking credit for her work. Unfortunately, all she could do was swallow her anger and nod along to Michael’s lies.

“Yep, I’ve been trying to save up, so that’s been working out well for me,” she said, bobbing her head and hoping her affirmative body language would be convincing to her mom.

Alice had inherited her poor lying skills and gullibility from her mother, so Kathy believed her words without question. Relieved as she was that her mother believed her, Alice did not relish deceiving the woman who had given her life, so she quickly sought a change of subject.

“So how long are you staying here for, mom? Until school starts? I thought you usually taught summer school,” Alice said, latching onto work as a boring but serviceable distraction.

“Yeah, normally I do, but I’m getting closer to retiring. I’m tired, I want the summers to myself, and I don’t much care what administration thinks of me anymore. I’m not going to teach summer school any more,” Kathy said.

“Might I enquire as to the level of education you teach, Kathy?” Michael asked.

Kathy laughed, holding her wine glass up and swishing it about in a mock sophisticated manner.

“Why yes you might,” she said in an affected tone. “I have the great duty and privilege of teaching moody high school students. Mostly I teach language arts, although I’ve been known to sub in for drama or health on occasion.”

“Teaching is a most noble profession,” Michael said.

Kathy smiled at him with a mildly pleased expression.

“I’m glad you think so! I agree!”

Wine always made Kathy talkative, and so they whiled the evening away, Kathy chattering on about school and her students, while Michael and Alice interjected with a question or a comment on occasion. Around nine, however, Alice called it a night, citing an early shift in the morning, and they all retired. There was no question where Kathy would sleep—even when the guest room hadn’t been occupied, if Andy wasn’t there Kathy and Alice shared a bed. Some of her friends growing up had thought it was weird, but Alice figured they didn’t understand what it was like to have a single parent.

Alice helped her slightly-tipsy mom to her room, and Kathy fell onto Alice’s bed with a soft thwump.

“Mom, how long are you staying for? Will you be here the whole time?” Alice asked, not wanting her mother to feel unwelcome, but needing to know.

Kathy opened a single eye and gazed up at her daughter, a smile half-visible through Alice’s comforter.

“I was planning on staying for a month, and sleeping here if you’ll have me. But you know, if it’s better for you I can find somewhere else to stay…”

“No, of course you can stay here, mom!” Alice said, sitting on the bed and rubbing Kathy’s shoulder. “I was just surprised, you know? You kind of showed up out of the blue.”

With a groan and some non-negligible amount of effort, Kathy hauled herself to a sitting position.

“I know, and I’m sorry. I’m just… I’ve been worried about you. You take in this stranger, and you don’t call me as much, and… And then you send me a couple thousand dollars out of nowhere. It’s all a little crazy,” Kathy said, both tone and demeanor sobering significantly.

Alice kept rubbing her mom’s shoulder, but internally she struggled with what to do. It hurt her, not being able to be open with her mom. Alice wanted to assure her that everything was going to be fine, but she couldn’t provide those assurances in good faith.

“Well…” she said, carefully measuring her tone, “I am sorry I haven’t been as communicative. The Return was… hard for me. I was missing Andy a lot.”

Kathy sighed, and put an arm around Alice, pulling her daughter into her side where Alice could rest her head on her mother’s shoulder. Kathy’s hand reached up to stroke Alice’s hair, and Alice felt like she was twelve years old again.

“I know, sweetie. I know. But when you’re feeling sad like this, that’s exactly when you should try not to withdraw. Barb, Jim, Carrie, and I—we’re all here for you. We want to help you. Let us be here for you!”

Alice closed her eyes, enjoying the comfort of her mom’s touch. She nodded against Kathy’s soothing fingers.

“OK mom, I promise. I’ll do my best,” she said.

“And,” Kathy continued, “Michael seems… nice, but I’d still prefer it if you weren’t living with a stranger. Will he be here indefinitely?”

“I’m really not sure, mom, but since I brought him here I can’t just kick him out without some kind of notice or something,” Alice said.

Kathy nodded her head, her jaw bumping Alice’s head at the nadir of each nod.

“I know, and he really does seem quite nice. I’m not as worried about that anymore. But… about this money. Where did you come by it and why did you decide to send it to me all of a sudden? ...Not that I’m not grateful. Without it I don’t think I could have made this trip!” Kathy said.

Alice tried to make her answer as truthful as possible.

“Well, I’ve been wanting to help with your retirement for a while, so I’ve been saving a little. And having Michael her helped with things, financially.”

Kathy gingerly moved Alice off of her shoulder, then held her by her arms, staring her right in the face. She had her sternest teacher face on, and Alice knew she was in for a life lesson.

“I appreciate the gesture, and I won’t give back what you’ve already given me, but please don’t send any more, OK? I’m doing fine with my own retirement, and you have things to plan for for yourself! Get a house! Go on vacation! Save or your own retirement! Just because Andy’s gone doesn’t mean you don’t have a life worth investing in,” Kathy said

The stern affection evident in her mother’s eyes overwhelmed Alice, so long had it been since she’d experience motherly love at such close proximity, and tears started to sting at her eyes. She lifted her hands to her face, wiping away the wetness before it had a chance to condense into fully-formed tears.

“OK mom, I’ll try,” she said.

Kathy pulled her in for a hug, tucking Alice’s head against her breast.

“Oh, honey. You have such a bright future! I’ve already worked mine out—you just focus on yours. And besides, maybe you’ll meet someone else you can share it with. You’re still young and, though it might sound a little conceited of me to say it, you’ve inherited my good looks.”

At that, Alice let out a wet chuckle, and mother and daughter held each other in silence for a while longer.

“Well I’d better let you get to sleep. I know you have an early morning,” Kathy said eventually, and Alice nodded as she disentangled herself from her mother.

She brushed her teeth and changed into her pajamas (Kathy was feeling too tired and tipsy to bother with that), and climbed into bed next to her mom. She fell asleep feeling loved.

\---

Having Kathy around was both wonderful and maddening. Alice’s mother brought a richness and warmth to her life that she’d been missing, mostly due to her own tendency to push those who loved her away. With her mother around to put her habits and behaviors in perspective, Alice saw the social, emotional, and spiritual damage her hermetic ways was doing to her, and Kathy was gradually pulling her out of her funk. The maddening part of Kathy’s presence was due entirely to the danger Michael presented. Interactions between Michael and Kathy always set Alice on edge, and each night as Alice healed under her mother’s watchful care, she wrestled with the thought that if she truly cared about her mother, she would either send Kathy away or send Michael away. As much as he wrestled, she could never bring herself to choose either path.

Alice determined that the best she could do was find a moment to speak with Michael alone, to make sure he understood how he should behave around her mother. Kathy had always despised doing laundry, so Alice determined that a trip to the laundromat was the perfect opportunity to have just such a conversation. Usually Alice waited until the last possible moment to do the laundry, but the next day she had off she took the chore upon herself.

Michael usually didn’t do laundry with Alice unless she specifically asked, so she was surprised when he offered to come with her without prompting. That meant she wouldn’t have to beg or bribe him to accompany her, which meant the day was already looking up.

Years of early shifts had trained Alice to wake up early, so the day was still young when she and Michael set out for the laundromat, and there weren’t too many people walking about. Although Alice had wanted to take this opportunity to discuss their delicate situation with Michael, she found it difficult to know where to start. They walked in silence for a time, Alice holding her bag of quarters and the laundry detergent (fabric softener was only for fancy people) while Michael generously hefted the basket.

It was nice out, and Alice was enjoying the relative cool the morning afforded on what promised to be a sweltering day. Michael asked her if she planned on doing anything on her two days off, and Alice replied that she was going to take her mom to see the sights. Kathy had been to New York before, but she still hadn’t gone to the Met, or seen Stark Tower (“Not much to see,” Michael remarked), and she also really wanted to eat a cronut. With that, they mostly ran out of conversation, and Alice soaked in the peace of the morning in silence.

“You really should allow Barb, and Jim and Carrie to help out more,” Michael said, seemingly at random. “They reach out to you constantly, but I’ve noticed you rarely see them.”

Alice turned to Michael, blinking in confusion, when she realized where his comment must have come from. She had long suspected that he could hear her in her room, but since it was usually just the two of them in her apartment, it had never really been an issue.

“Michael, were you listening to my conversation with my mom the other night?” she asked, a little incensed. Michael had no right to hear her private conversations with her mother.

Michael ignored the question. “You’re all alone, always so depressed about Andy being gone, but you actually just bring it upon yourself, don’t you?”

Alice stopped in her tracks, her fingers tightening around her bag of quarters and detergent.

“I could say the same thing about you, couldn’t I?” she said, her voice raising, “I know you have a brother out there who seems to care about you a lot, but I don’t see you running to him for help!”

Michael took a step towards her, looming over her at an intimidating angle.

“Will you lower your voice?” he said in a harsh whisper, “you’re attracting attention.”

Alice bit back an angry retort as she looked around her and saw that, indeed, several people nearby were eyeing them with curious looks. She huffed, gathering up her bag of quarters and detergent to her and starting to walk forward again.

“We’ll talk about this later,” she said.

Alice and Michael continued on towards the laundromat, and she nodded with forced cordiality to the middle-aged Asian man she’d seen looking at them during their little tiff, hoping he wouldn’t judge her too harshly for her public argument. Alice had started seeing him quite often around the neighborhood in the past several months, and she was always eager to make a good impression with her neighbors. The man smiled back at her, although there was an odd sort of nervousness to the smile that set Alice a little on edge. She and Michael walked past him, but something about the man’s demeanor caused Alice to glance back at him for a second look. She screamed.

The man was much closer to them than she had thought he would be, having evidently turned back towards them, and just as Alice turned he plunged a knife into Michael’s back.

“Murderer!” the man screamed, the rage and sadness of his features looking alien on a face clearly meant for mild smiles.

Time seemed to slow, and Alice saw each person’s individual movements as if they were engaged in an intricately choreographed dance. Michael dropped the basket of laundry and arched his spine, and the man pulled the knife from his back, raising it high in an arc with unmistakably violent intentions. Without any conscious thought passing through her mind, Alice dropped the detergent in her hands and lunged at the man, pushing him back so that he wouldn’t be able to stab Michael again.

The man stumbled backwards, and his frantic, dark eyes turned towards Alice. He managed to stay on his feet, knife still clutched in his hand, then he charged at Alice, slashing diagonally across her chest. She stumbled backwards, but the knife’s edge caught her on her arm, tearing through the skin and making her gasp. The man continued on towards Alice, and she couldn’t get away from him fast enough. His next slash was bound to be significantly more damaging then the first.

Alice felt a hand grasp her shoulder and launch her backwards, and she fell onto the concrete, hard. She looked up and saw Michael, blood staining the back of his t-shirt, holding the wrist of the man with the knife high above the man's head. The man still held the knife in a white-knuckled grip, but Michael's grasp on his wrist had him completely immobilized. Alice only had split second to take in the scene before a dagger materialized in Michael's other hand, seemingly out of thin air, and he thrust the weapon into the man’s gut. The man's face immediately whitened, and his grip on his weapon weakened. Michael dug the dagger deep into the man’s stomach, and the man’s face warped in pain before slackening into unconsciousness. Michael pulled the dagger out of the man’s abdomen, and the man collapsed onto the concrete.

The blood oozing from Michael’s back, the deathly pallor of the man’s skin, and the gushing wound in the man’s stomach all triggered Alice’s professional reflexes, and she leapt to her feet. Of the three of them, the man lying prone on the concrete was definitely the most seriously injured, so she went to him first. On her way she grabbed several shirts from the laundry basket, and knelt at the man’s side, pulling up his worn navy polo to get a look at the gash.

“Someone call 911, please!” she yelled to the handful of stunned onlookers who had crowded around her. “And does anyone have any water?”

One of the onlookers, a woman in her twenties dressed like she was on her way to spin class, produced a water bottle, handing it to Alice nervously. Alice opened the bottle and poured water onto the man’s wound, rinsing it out as best she could. If there was a bright side Alice could see to all of this, Michael’s dagger had been sharp, and it didn’t look like any debris had gotten into the wound.

Michael stood motionless nearby as Alice attempted to dress the wound.

“Alice, why are you helping this man? He just attacked you. He tried to kill you,” he said.

Alice continued her work, bunching up a shirt from the laundry and pressing it down on the wound.

“I treat everybody. It’s not up to me who deserves to live and who doesn’t,” she said.

She turned to the woman with the water bottle, who still hovered anxiously over the man, and motioned for her to press down on the shirt.

“Can you maintain pressure, please?” she asked, and the woman nodded.

Alice then got shakily to her feet, pulling the knife the man still held loosely from his fingers and setting it down on the sidewalk a safe distance away from him, in case he woke up.

“911 is on their way,” a teenage boy among the onlookers said, still holding his cellphone up to his ear. Alice nodded at him in gratitude as she strode over to Michael.

“Michael, are you OK? Do you feel lightheaded? Faint? Let me see the wound,” she said, turning Michael around and lifting up his shirt.

Michael protested, but didn’t resist. Alice’s brows knitted in confusion as she studied the puncture between Michael’s shoulder blades.

“I’m not terribly injured,” Michael said, his voice muted by his direction, “I don’t think he was able to get a good angle.”

Lying. Michael was lying. Michael’s back had a decent amount of blood on it, but the gash was no longer oozing. It had even started to crust up a little, and his pale skin puckered around the wound as if the two pieces of flesh yearned to be back together again. Alice had treated stab wounds before, and this did not look like a shallow wound—rather, it looked like a serious wound that was mostly healed.

Alice swallowed, then poured the rest of the water from the water bottle over his back, wiping away at the blood with another dirty shirt until the wound was cleaned. She grimaced as she noticed the second shirt she had grabbed from the laundry basket was one of her favorites.

“You’re lucky,” she said aloud, conscious of the onlookers within earshot, “he didn’t manage to stab too deeply.”

She let Michael’s shirt fall over his back, and tried to figure out how she might be able to keep the paramedics from examining it too closely (they would definitely see that something was off). Distant ambulance sirens pierced the air, and Alice started to feel woozy.

Michael steadied her, and Alice wondered how he had turned around without her noticing. Maybe it was magic.

“Alice, your arm is bleeding quite a bit,” he said.

“I’m sure it’s fine,” Alice said, her voice starting to slur a little as the edges of her vision dimmed. Numbly she realized that she was probably slipping into shock, but she couldn’t summon up any emotional reaction to the fact.

“What happened?” a sharp voice cut through the haze. It sounded like Natasha. Alice wondered vaguely how she’d gotten there.

Alice could hear voices—Michael’s and Natasha’s—but their words ceased to have any meaning for her.

“This man attacked me, that’s what happened.”

“What did you do?”

“I did nothing to provoke this.”

“Really?”

“...At least not recently.”

Alice was faintly aware of a person’s hands on her arm, cleaning her cut and asking her the kind of gentle, easy questions she knew to ask her patients when they were freaking out. Then, she was being ushered into a black van. She asked each of the many black-attired strangers surrounding her about her laundry basket, the status of which seemed of the utmost importance in her mind. She was assured multiple times that someone would get her dirty clothes for her, but she kept asking anyway.

“Alice? Alice, can you hear me?” Natasha’s voice cut through the haze, and Alice looked up, able to focus on a face for the first time in a while.

She wasn’t sure how long it had been since she’d been collected from the sidewalk by Natasha and her officers, but she was no longer in a van. Natasha’s face looked serious and controlled, with only a hint of empathy visible through her professional demeanor.

“Yes?” Alice said weakly.

“We’ve stitched up your arm, so you should be good to go, but you’re not looking so good. Do you need anything? Are you all right?” Natasha asked.

“She should be taken home so she can rest in comfort,” Alice heard Michael say, and her gaze drifted over to where he loomed somewhere high above her. He looked surly, his arms crossed over his chest and his brow furrowed. The lines on his face didn’t suit him, his pale skin and sharp features meant to look like a statue.

Natasha looked back at him over her shoulder and shushed him.

“Nobody asked you, snake,” she said.

“Oooh, calling me a snake. How original,” Michael snapped. Natasha ignored him.

“Alice, we’re at a secure SHIELD facility. If you want, you can rest here until you’re feeling better.”

Alice shook her head.

“I want to go home. My mom-”

“-she’s safe. Your apartment is being closely monitored by an entire team right now, and your mother is 100% secure,” Natasha said.

Alice shook her head, her vision coming into focus and her thoughts clarifying.

“...I’d still like to go home, if that’s OK. I… I just want to go home.”

Natasha nodded, then placed a hand on Alice’s shoulder in what was clearly meant to approximate a comforting gesture.

“OK, we’ll take you home. We’ll debrief you on the attack tomorrow, but just rest for now.”

As if Natasha’s words were a magic spell, Alice suddenly felt inexpressibly tired. Natasha walked Alice to yet another black van and helped her inside, but as soon as the heavy sliding door clicked shut, she was asleep.

Blissfully empty, grey dreams accompanied Alice on her trip back to her apartment, and she only partially rejoined the land of the living upon arrival at her destination. Vague impressions of being carried up the stairs remained with her, and the last indistinct memories she had were of long, cool hands placing her carefully in bed and tucking her under the covers.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! This chapter was a doozy to write! It’s pretty important so fingers crossed I got it right. I hope you like it :)

The chatter of birdsong and the bright heat of sunlight pulled Alice to wakefulness before she was ready to deal with her conscious life. She stubbornly remained in bed with her eyes shut for a good thirty minutes, willing herself in vain to go back to sleep. Eventually, she gave up the struggle and opened her eyes, hands fumbling for the phone she always kept on her nightstand but not finding everything in its familiar place. She sat up quickly, opening her eyes wider as she realized she wasn’t in her room. She was in Michael’s room.

“Mom? Michael?” she asked, raising her voice so she could be heard throughout the apartment.

The rapid pitter-patter of footsteps preceded Kathy’s eager entrance into the room, then Kathy moved to Alice’s bedside with a speed of which only worried mothers are capable and hugged her daughter tightly to her chest.

“Oh, I’m so glad you’re awake. Are you feeling better, honey?” Kathy asked.

Alice hugged her mom back weakly, a little confused and uncertain as to how to answer. What exactly had Michael told Kathy about the previous day?

“Yes, I feel like I’ve slept for forever,” Alice said. “What time is it?”

“It’s almost noon, so of course you’d feel that way. Michael told me what happened at the laundromat, I’m so sorry you had to get stitches!” Kathy said, taking a seat at the edge of the bed next to Alice.

“Yeah? Did he tell you everything?” Alice asked cautiously.

“Oh yes. I can’t believe the laundromat could allow a dryer to have such a sharp piece of metal sticking out like that! You could totally sue, you know,” Kathy said, outraged on her daughter’s behalf at the lax safety standards of her laundromat.

Alice nodded, glad that Michael had come up with some alternate explanation for her. She wasn’t feeling particularly creative at the moment.

“Yeah, it’s kind of nuts. Anyway, it’s just a cut. I’ll be fine,” Alice said.

Kathy pursed her lips, shaking her head in disapproval.

“Alice, you’re too kind. You can’t just let people walk all over you like that. You really should consider suing them. It’s their fault you were hurt.”

Alice laughed weakly, scratching the elbow of her injured arm with her other hand. She probably should act more upset. If she really had sliced her arm open on a broken dryer, she would be pretty pissed. Unfortunately, she was feeling drained and she'd never really been a good actor.

“OK, I’ll think about it. I promise,” she said by way of appeasement.

Kathy crossed her arms, not entirely satisfied with Alice’s unenthusiastic answer.

“Well I’m just glad Michael was with you. You know, he was so kind last night. He carried you up here, he slept on the couch so you could have your own bed, and he told me right away what happened, but made sure not to wake you up. He’s growing on me, honey.”

Ah, so that’s why she was in his room. That made sense.

“Yeah, he was really great. Got me to the hospital and everything,” Alice said, and as she said the words she realized she truly was grateful to him. Perhaps she shouldn’t be—it was because of him that she’d been attacked in the first place, after all—but he had protected her and watched over her throughout the entire ordeal.

Kathy pulled Alice in for another hug and kissed her on her hair, then she stood up briskly.

“Well I was going to make lunch for you, but you have absolutely no food in the fridge, so I’m going to go to the grocery store. I’ll be back soon, sweetie,” she said.

“Thanks mom,” Alice said with a smile, pulling herself up straighter and leaning back into the many pillows on Michael’s bed as her mother exited the room.

As soon as Alice heard the shutting door that signaled Kathy’s departure, she called out for Michael. He appeared in the doorway immediately and soundlessly, and Alice gestured for him to come in.

“Well?” Alice said, raising an eyebrow at him. “I definitely had plenty of food in the fridge, so you must have arranged this little famine for some reason. Do you want to talk?”

The corner of Michael’s mouth quirked upward as he took uneven, lazy steps further into the room.

“I see you've found me out.”

Alice rose from the bed. Tired as she was, a deeply-ingrained sense of manners prevented her from staying seated while Michael stood. Michael walked up to her, further into her personal space than was usual, and glanced her over, searching her limbs as if he might discover some additional injuries the nurses had missed.

“Are you well, Alice?” he asked, “How do you feel?”

Alice chuckled lightly and shook her head.

“I’m fine, really. People get stitches all the time. I’m just feeling a little tired, is all. More than the cut, the fact that someone attacked me with a knife is what’s been hardest for me to deal with,” she said.

Michael nodded, but he seemed distracted. He fidgeted with his hands behind his back, not meeting Alice’s gaze.

“Yes. I can imagine if one is unaccustomed to combat the experience can be… jarring.”

Alice drew her mouth to a line.

“I take it you are “accustomed to combat,” then? You certainly seemed like you knew what you were doing,” Alice said.

Michael’s eyes finally met Alice’s, and he nodded.

“Yes, I am accustomed. Although I can’t say I was particularly tested in this instance. That man was certainly very motivated, but untrained,” he said.

“Did the attacker… did he survive?” Alice asked.

Michael’s mouth twisted in a wry smile.

“Always concerned for others, aren’t you?” he asked.

“I’d like to know.”

“He is recovering. He was seriously injured, as I’m sure you’re aware, but he is in stable condition,” Michael said.

“Do you know him?” Alice asked. He turned his head from her, gazing out the window as he worked his jaw. Alice took a step forward and steeled herself for the weightier question. “Michael, why did he call you a murderer?”

Michael looked back at her, and Alice was taken aback by the softness, the transparency of his features. She had never seen him look so vulnerable before. He stared silently at her for a long moment, and Alice held her breath, waiting for an answer that might change everything.

He didn’t answer. He ducked his head, taking a step towards Alice, and reached for her hand, holding her fingers loosely in his. He ran his thumb across her fingers and stared at her hand as if it were the most enthralling thing he’d ever seen.

“So fragile…” he said, quietly but not whispering.

Alice swallowed thickly, taken aback by his tender touch. She wanted to ask him again—she _needed_ him to answer the question—but the words wouldn’t come. She was aware that this might all be part of his game—she knew him well enough to know him capable of this level of manipulation. Still, the words would not come.

He took another step towards her, his head still tipped downwards, but her face now certainly within his line of sight, and his other hand reached out to touch her cheek. His thumb stroked the tan skin of her cheek slowly and gently, passing over the freckled, weathered skin as if it were as smooth as silk. Barely daring to breath, Alice remained motionless, but flicked her eyes upwards, meeting Michael’s gaze. He was clearly focused on her, but in a distant, removed sort of way. She wondered what kind of ancient, weighty thoughts he must be having.

His right hand relinquished her fingers and moved up to her arm—the one with the stitches—and he stroked slowly up and down its length, hands just barely ghosting above the bandage.

“One day far too soon, you will die,” he murmured, the morbid words coming out like a sonnet, “but I am glad yesterday was not that day.”

He had never seemed less human, and it frightened Alice. It frightened her that she was not _more_ frightened of him.

“Michael,” Alice said, forcing the words out as she fought for control of her faculties. “Michael, please answer the question.”

Michael closed his eyes, his mouth opening slightly, and dipped his head once in assent.

“Yes. I will,” he said, opening his pale blue eyes again.

Hand still cupping her cheek, Michael leaned forward at an unhurried, relentless pace, and kissed her, pressing his thin, cool lips to hers for a single, protracted moment.

Alice didn’t know why she let him, but she did. She couldn’t claim that this was a stolen kiss, even though it wasn’t one she had necessarily been looking for. She wouldn’t have been able to say why, but she could sense that this was not an act of seduction—not the first move in a lengthy game of romance. It had felt simpler than that: a pure expression of affection, tinged with regret and painful partings.

Michael pulled away completely, taking several steps backwards before turning around towards the door.

“I do not know that man, but what he said was true. Your agent friend informed me that I was responsible for the deaths of his two children,” Michael said in a clear voice that did not shrink from the truth.

Michael paused, and she could see his back heave as he took in a deep breath. He turned back around to face her, his back tall and his face a blank slate.

“I am Loki, Prince of Asgard, Odinson, the Rightful King of Jotunheim, and God of Mischief,” he said.

It took a moment for the synapses in Alice’s brain to fully register his words.

“…Loki?” she said, confused.

Michael, or rather, Loki, nodded.

“The god who invaded New York with an army of aliens six years ago?” she said, her voice regaining inflection as the implications of his statement became more real to her.

Loki nodded again.

“Yes, that was me,” he said evenly.

Alice backed away from him, holding her hands out behind her in search of the bed. Finding the soft covers with her fingers, she sat down on the mattress, giving herself a moment to take in what he was saying.

“How is that possible? How did I not recognize you?” she asked, looking up at Loki in disbelief.

“I have been back to your realm several times since the invasion, but hardly anybody has recognized me. Only a very few images of me were ever made available to the general public, and in all of them I was wearing my helmet and armor,” he said.

Alice held her head in her hands, shaking her head back and forth in denial.

“No, no, no. I would have noticed. I live in New York City, for God’s sake. I was here when that happened,” she said.

Loki huffed in frustration, turning away from Alice only to pivot back towards her, arms crossed.

“Alice, I am _trying_ to be truthful here,” he said.

“I just... I just... I can’t believe it,” she said, the refusal seeming like her best option given in the current circumstance.

Loki closed his eyes and huffed, pursing his lips, and when he opened his eyes again Alice thought she saw a slight roll of impatience to them. He gestured with one of his hands, and a green light emanated from him, obscuring his features for a moment. When Alice was able to make his features out again, he looked completely different.

He was wearing green and gold armor with a full, emerald-colored cape, and on his head was a familiar golden helmet with long, curved horns. The armor looked a little odd on him—like it was made for a person with a broader, more intimidating frame. This was the Loki she remembered from the pictures.

Seeing him like this, Alice realized why she hadn’t recognized him before. Loki was right—the photos of earth’s assailant six years ago had mostly been from a distance, and in all of them he had been wearing that helmet that completely obscured his distinctive hair and most of his face. Alice had also only ever seen Michael in either a hospital gown or his Old Navy wardrobe, so it was no surprise that she had never mentally connected him to this green-and-gold armored god.

Alice swallowed hard and shifted on the bed, but her gaze never left Loki.

“OK. I believe you now,” she said faintly.

Loki took several steps towards her, his helmet disappearing and much of the gold armor fading away with it.

“Are you going to kill me, then? Why haven’t you done it already?” Alice asked, looking up at him in resignation.

Loki looked genuinely taken aback by the question—affronted, even.

“ _Kill_ you? Why would I do that? I admit I have taken lives before, but I’m not some mindless killing machine, ruled by bloodlust. I have always had a purpose,” he said.

“Purpose?” Alice asked as she rose to her feet, and she almost winced at the shrillness of her voice, “How am I supposed to understand whether or not you have purpose enough to kill me? I can’t even fathom a purpose that would justify what you did to New York.”

Alice found herself in the unusual situation of having grown to know the criminal before knowing his crime, and it was an uncomfortable place to be. It was so much easier to deny those who committed atrocities as monsters, as creatures utterly separate from mankind and beyond human understanding. But having already come to know Michael, at least to some extent, made it impossible for Alice to completely dismiss Loki as an irredeemable killer. She did not know if she could ever understand his motivations, much less condone them, but she wanted to.

Loki paced back and forth in agitation, guilt and anger and frustration fighting a gruesome battle across his features. Anger won, but it was a pyrrhic victory.

“Of _course_ you would not understand. You could not possibly comprehend what it is to live a thousand years and yet never have control over your own destiny. For centuries I struggled to find my place—struggled to earn my father’s love and respect, only to discover that my worth, my place in the realms had been determined by him long ago. So I rebelled, and sought to make a new way for myself, only to find myself under the control of yet another ruler who saw fit to use me for his own purposes. I thought by disappearing into the cosmos I would at least be my own master, but under Thanos I was once again a powerless puppet.”

Alice struggled to follow his monologue, attempting to connect his complaints to the little she knew about him. After the invasion of New York, there had been plenty of news stories, profiles, and thinkpieces on the would-be ruler of earth, and Alice had read a few, but in all of them the conjecture-to-fact ratio was unfavorable. SHIELD had been characteristically tight-lipped regarding the whole incident, so journalists and writers had to rely on rumors and supposition to flesh out their stories. At the end of the day, there was not much she had read about Loki that she was confident was true. She knew he was the jealous brother of Thor, that he was from Asgard (whose people looked human but were significantly more durable and longer-lived), that he had magical powers, and that he had invaded earth.

“Thanos? Isn’t he the one responsible for killing half of the universe? What does he have to do with this? You didn’t help him, did you?” Alice asked.

Loki ceased his pacing and turned on Alice, a vein protruding from his skin interrupting the otherwise smooth surface of his forehead.

“ _Help_ him? You really think me capable of- ? How could you have so low an opinion- ! I did only what I was _forced_ \- !” he sputtered, rage and excuses tying up his silver tongue.

As he spoke, he advanced on Alice, his graceful hands stabbing downwards to emphasize each of his incomplete thoughts. His anger and proximity made Alice nervous, but she was also fully aware of what was happening in his head. She recognized guilt and deflection when she saw it.

Loki was right up in her face, towering over her and radiating outrage and fear. Alice placed a hand on his, ceasing its violent gesticulation.

“Loki,” she said, forcing herself to call him by his true name, “how did you end up in that hospital bed? What exactly were you forced to do?”

Loki got ahold of his emotions, jerking his hand from Alice’s grip, and pulled himself up tall, donning a calm, imperious mask--a mask clearly worn from lengthy and regular use.

“After my father cast me out, I was set adrift among the cosmos, and eventually I was discovered by Thanos. I had no real aim or purpose, and Thanos seemed to… appreciate me and my gifts. He took me in, but his idea of mentorship was more akin to torture than anything else. Eventually I devised a plan that, I hoped, would both please Thanos and provide me with some autonomy—give me some of the power and liberty I had yearned for. In return for obtaining an Infinity Stone from earth, Thanos would provide me with an army, and allow me to rule earth after its defeat.”

Alice had only a vague sense of what the Infinity Stones were, but Loki’s explanation did not absolve him in her mind.

“So… it sounds to me like you invaded earth by choice, and helped Thanos get what he wanted,” she said, folding her arms across her chest.

She surprised herself somewhat with her boldness, but Alice had come to a strange state of being wherein she accepted that if Loki wanted her dead, she would be dead. Embracing that she had no say in her survival gave her an odd sort of invincibility—like she could say or do anything because it would make no difference.

Loki’s smooth, composed features tightened, but he did not lose his temper.

“You are not understanding. You could not possibly understand. A weak and feeble creature such as you would not be able to endure the kinds of torments I did—you would die well before the worst of them had begun. You will never know the kind of agony that Thanos could inflict,” Loki said, his fists at his side exhibiting a slight tremble.

It struck Alice that there was some truth to what Loki was saying. She had treated many patients who had endured great suffering before, but she had never herself been a victim of violence before yesterday. Even her relatively minor injury had left her shaken and scared. What would it be like to regularly participate in battle? To routinely face others intent on ending your life? What would it be like to be tortured? Those experiences were far from her own comprehension.

“It is true that it was my decision to invade this realm,” Loki continued, “but I was hardly in control of my own thoughts and designs at that point. And after I… failed… I never aided Thanos again. I tried to keep the Infinity Stones from him, tried to save my brother, tried to save my people, even tried to kill Thanos myself. I failed, and he killed me. He held my neck in his hand and he snapped it in two. I am not sure why I returned with those who disappeared in The Snap, but I did. And that is when you found me”

At that, Loki fell silent, and Alice could not think of what response to make. She lowered her gaze, and though she could feel his eyes on her, she could not meet them. The blind terror and panic she'd witnessed in his eyes when he'd clutched at his neck months earlier was recalled to her mind, and she knew that what he was saying was true. She felt sympathy for him, but also wariness.

As she pondered, Loki’s gaze did not leave her. It felt as though he was waiting for her to pass some kind of judgment—either to condemn or absolve him—but she was in no position to do so. So much of what he had described was completely beyond anything she had ever imagined, and his guilt rested on things that she couldn’t know. How much did he act by his own free will when he was under Thanos’ power? How much was he aware of the pain and suffering he was causing? How much had he truly changed, in his heart? How much had he been motivated by a lust for power and how much by fear for his own life, or for his own people?

Overwhelmed, Alice again sat on the bed and finally willed herself to look back up at him. He had set his jaw, steeling himself for whatever verdict she might return, and Alice had the distinct impression that this was not the first time he had awaited the judgment of others, pretending he did not care about their conclusions one way or another. She shook her head.

Years of Sunday School had taught Alice that only God could judge people, for only He had the wisdom and understanding to do so (not to mention that judgment from anyone else would be incredibly hypocritical). That said, Alice still needed to use her best judgment to determine whether or not she was safe around Loki, whether or not she should run far away. SHIELD had promised her protection, but something told Alice that if he wanted to, Loki could dispose of her (and more importantly Kathy) before SHIELD had a chance to retaliate. And so, while she was determined not to judge Loki’s value as a sentient being, or his righteousness, or whether or not he deserved to be punished for his crimes, she still needed to judge the level of threat he posed to her and her family.

“I don’t know what you are responsible for and what you aren’t, Loki,” Alice said, “I’m not here to measure your virtue or determine your worthiness.”

Loki’s chest contracted, and though his face remained pale and stern, he rolled his lower lip ever so slightly under his teeth, and Alice thought she could detect some mistiness in his eyes. He looked like a man trying desperately not to hope for too much, and it made what Alice had to say next even harder to get out.

“...I am not here to judge you, but I can’t let you stay here,” she finished.

The light of hope that had illuminated Loki’s cold eyes flickered out, and a shadow passed over his features. Loki closed his eyes and clenched his fists.

“No,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Maybe if it was just me, I could do it, but with my mom here, I can’t risk her life just to give you the benefit of the doubt,” Alice said, knowing that if the stories Loki had told her were true, her words might cut particularly deep.

“No,” Loki said again, shaking his head. He stepped even closer to Alice and seized her by the wrists, pulling her to her feet and snarling into her face. “I was prepared to walk away, I was _ready_ for it. But no. I will _not_ be thrown away again.”

Alice’s eyes widened in terror and her heart raced. She could still feel the syringe in her pocket, but with Loki’s hands on her wrists she couldn’t reach it. Her best hope was that SHIELD was monitoring her closely enough to see that she needed help. Perhaps she should have found a less direct approach to extricating her life from Loki’s, but she had thought that being honest and straightforward would be best. She had thought that she and Loki had established enough of a relationship for that.

Recognizing the fear in Alice’s eyes, Loki’s grip on her wrists loosened, and he pulled her more gently to him. One hand moved to her back and rubbed it soothingly, the motion strangely tender considering how inescapably his arms restrained her. With one hand free Alice thought that she might be able to reach the syringe, but she quickly realized it wouldn’t be possible pressed up against him as she was.

“I am sorry. I am _sorry_ ,” he said over her shoulder. “I will not harm you, I swear it. I just cannot prove it to you, so I have no other choice. I must force you to give me this chance.”

Alice’s heart broke at the raw honesty evident in his voice, but her sympathy did not lessen her growing panic. What was he going to do? How did he intend to force her to give him a chance?

Loki leaned back from her so he could look at her face-to-face, and the warmth and gentleness in his eyes was startling.

“You will be safe with me here, as will your mother. You have nothing to fear from me. In fact, my presence will only add to your security,” he said, his voice buttery smooth.

Alice found herself nodding as she stared numbly into his icy irises.

“Yes, of course,” she recited in a sing-songy voice that she didn’t quite recognize, “I couldn’t possibly kick you out. That would be too cruel.”

Loki nodded and smiled at her, like a teacher pleased with a first-grader’s correct answer.

“Give me this chance and I will not fail you,” he said, his words gliding across her mind like velvet on polished wood. “I have broken many promises but this one I will keep. Know that you can trust me, at least in this.”

When he reached the word “trust,” the velvet snagged.

Alice managed to break from Loki’s mesmerizing gaze, confused as to why he was so close to her, and why she was so convinced that she should let him stay. Her surroundings reminded her that she had been injured just the day before, and that that attack would not have happened had Loki not been there. Her mind was just beginning to rebel, when Loki’s hand went to her cheek and turned her gaze back towards his.

“Trust me, Alice. You did once before, and I couldn’t bare to lose that,” he said.

Alice nodded, completely captivated.

“Of course, Loki. You can stay as long as you need.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: I literally just missed my flight home :( On the bright side, that means I had tons of time in the airport to finish this chapter! I’m so sorry that this update took so long. This chapter is a little different in tone from the previous chapters, and you might want to reread the end of the last chapter in order to get a sense for why. Let me know if it makes sense to you! I hope you enjoy!

By the time Kathy returned from the store with eggs and hashbrowns (Alice’s favorite), Alice was feeling _wonderful_. Not in an overpowering, frenetic, event-of-the-year sort of way, but more in that peaceful, contented, perfect Sunday afternoon way. She hadn’t felt this at-ease, this safe, in a long time.

“Hey honey, I’m making brunch!” Kathy called out as she backed into the living room, pushing the door open with her hip while carrying her grocery bags with both arms.

Alice got up from where she’d been lying down on the couch to help her mother with the groceries while Loki stayed seated in his chair, reading his Al Capone book. Alice had to keep reminding herself to call him that—she would continue to call him Michael in front of her mother, but she wanted to make sure she didn’t forget who he was, at least in her head.

“Thanks so much, mom. I don’t think I’ve had hash browns in forever,” Alice said as she pulled the groceries from the paper bags, then folded the bags for recycling.

“Well I want only the best for my daughter,” Kathy said, pulling Alice towards her and planting a kiss on her daughter’s forehead before starting the meal.

Kathy rooted around in the kitchen for a frying pan, and Alice didn’t protest. She knew how much her injury had upset her mother, and she knew that finding some way to be useful would comfort Kathy. Instead, Alice puttered around the kitchen, righting her appliances and putting away the odds and ends she usually just left out on the counter while her mom cooked.

“I was thinking,” Alice said as she found a home in the back of the cupboard for a Costco-sized jug of olive oil, “we should go to the opera tonight. I know you wanted to see the Met—what better way to see it than to see a show?”

"What?" Kathy said with a laugh, "Go to the opera? But you're still recovering, and you have work tomorrow!"

Alice walked into the living room and plopped onto the couch. She grabbed her phone, seized by her idea and refusing to give it up. She wasn’t really sure where the notion had come from (the olive oil was Italian—perhaps that was it?), but she'd taken quite a fancy to it. Although Alice was a homebody by habit, the rarity of the desire to go out meant that whenever the urge _did_ strike, she made sure to act on it.

"That's just it! I have work tomorrow, and you aren't going to be here forever. We have to take advantage of the time we have to see the city together! And besides, I just got stitches. A simple flesh wound won't keep me from going out," Alice said.

Alice was already starting to get well and truly excited by her plans. She had an extra $200,000 in her bank account, her mom was in town, and she wanted to do something special. Opera had never been something that particularly appealed to Alice, but she liked classical music, and her mother had a couple of arias she liked. Even more than opera, Kathy liked anything posh, and Alice couldn't think of anything posher than going to the opera on a whim.

She started buying tickets on her phone.

"I'm doing it. We're going." Alice said.

Kathy laughed again, drying her hands and walking over to Alice to give her shoulders a little rub.

"If you insist," Kathy said. "It should be fun. Michael, will you be joining us?"

It was good of Kathy to ask—Alice had just assumed he would come along. Since this morning, Alice couldn't see a future for her that didn't include Loki—he had become a given in her life. Alice looked over at where he sat in his chair, peering back at them over the cover of his book.

"I ah, I am not sure if..." he said, sounding hesitant.

Alice huffed. Why shouldn't he come? He'd been out in public plenty of times without anyone recognizing him, and he could change his appearance if need be.

"Come on, Michael. You've spent too many days just lurking around at home. You should come with us," she said.

Loki shot her a puzzled look, his eyes slightly narrowed, then he shut his book with a snap, setting it down on the arm of his chair.

"Very well. I will accompany you."

Alice confirmed the number of tickets to purchase, then moved on to selecting seats. The seats in the "family circle" were surprisingly reasonably-priced, but Alice wanted this to be an indulgence, so her finger wandered down to the expensive seats. Her eyes bugged at the prices. Orchestra was out of the question, but Grand Tier? That sounded nice. Between the three of them, the tickets would cost over a grand, but...

"200,000 dollars..." she muttered to herself. She might as well get something out of her arrangement with SHIELD.

"What's that, honey?" Kathy asked

“Nothing, nothing. I got the tickets! A patient of mine sings in the chorus, and he told me he could get me a steep discount,” she fibbed, knowing Kathy would be suspicious of how close the tickets were to the stage, “so I even got some really nice seats.”

Alice jumped off the couch before her mother could question her too closely, moving towards her room with purpose.

“The shows starts in three hours—we should start getting ready now,” she called back to the living room as she made her way through the hall.

“Three hours? Isn’t it a little early to be getting ready?” Alice heard Kathy say from the kitchen.

Alice shook her head despite being out of sight of either her mother or Loki, already searching through her closet.

“It takes an hour to get there, and we don’t want to be late,” she called back. “They don’t let you into the theater until intermission if you’re late. Plus, I want to look nice.”

Alice heard a laugh from behind her, and poked her head out of the closet to find Kathy standing in the doorway.

“You’re really excited about this, aren’t you?” Kathy said.

Alice paused her search, gazing back at her mother and shrugging with a half-smile.

“Yes! I don't know, lately I’ve been feeling like I’ve been in a bit of a fog, like I’ve been paralyzed. I don’t know why, but today all of that just went away. I feel… good. And I want to celebrate.”

Kathy’s face fell a little into its old worry lines at Alice’s words, and her crossed arms tightened across her ribs.

“I noticed you haven’t been the same lately. Do you want to talk about it? What’s been going on?” Kathy gently probed.

Alice paused to reflect, wanting to provide her mother with an honest answer, but as she called her mind back to the previous months, she couldn’t quite pinpoint what had been wrong. An inkling within her whispered that it had something to do with Loki, seeing as her change in temperament had coincided with his insertion into her life, but that couldn’t be right. Loki had been there, but that was fine. She trusted him. If anything, she had felt… emptier, less whole, less secure without him.

Alice knew Loki had done some bad things before. She knew he had attacked New York, that he had killed people even. There were times in the past months that he had frightened her. She knew these things, but her brain refused to hold onto these facts, refused to do any kind of mental work with them. They weren’t important. What was important was that Loki would keep her safe.

Lost in her thoughts, Alice let her fingers drag across the silky fabric of an old floral dress she hadn’t worn in years, the cool fabric providing a smooth but satisfying friction against her skin.

“It’s like I told you before, it all started with The Return. I was angry at first. Angry that other people got the people they lost back, but I didn’t get Andy. I think maybe now I’m finally beginning to accept it,” she said.

She looked back up at her mother, a smile as soft as the dress gracing her lips. Kathy returned the smile a hundredfold.

“Well I’m afraid I didn’t really bring anything opera-worthy to wear on my vacation, but I’ll see what I can do,” Kathy said, walking further into the room. “Let’s have a wonderful evening, honey.”

\---

Kathy was quite a bit taller than Alice, but Alice still managed to find a loose-fitting printed wrap dress of hers that would fit her mother. Kathy had brought her own strappy heels, so she was covered in the shoe-department, which was a relief as Alice’s feet were several sizes smaller than Kathy’s. Alice unearthed a cocktail dress she’d bought for Andy’s fancy work Christmas parties years ago, and was pleased to discover that the little thing still fit her. It was a black number, fitted at the top with a flowy, knee-length skirt, and it always made her feel sexy, if a little uncomfortable. Wearing scrubs day in and day out made anything even slightly form-fitting or revealing feel downright scandalous. Anyway, it wasn’t as if Alice had many options. She didn’t own many dresses.

Kathy and Alice occupied the bathroom together, putting on makeup, curling hair, rummaging through Alice’s jewelry, and debating which earrings would best complete their ensembles. It was frivolous, but Alice needed some frivolity. It reminded her a little of her senior prom, and that kind of carefree youthful glee was exactly the kind of feeling she wanted to bask in tonight.

After picking out a pair of faux-gold hoops and a brightly-colored bangle, Alice remembered the one piece of high-quality jewelry she owned. She hesitated only a moment, then went to the little box that lay in the back of her nightstand drawer. Undoing the clasp on the box, Alice pulled out a simple golden ring studded by several small diamonds arranged to look like leaves on a tender spring tree branch. Andy had only been out of college a year when he’d proposed, so the ring wasn’t particularly expensive as far as engagement rings went, but Alice loved it. While most engagement rings tended to have a giant rock jutting out in an exposed setting, Alice had asked Andy for a simple band without any protruding stones. She’d wanted to be able to wear her ring every day, and she knew from the other nurses that bulky rings got caught in everything when you were constantly pulling off and putting on gloves and working with your hands. This ring had been perfect, and there hadn’t been a day of their marriage that she’d gone without it.

She’d stopped wearing it three years after Andy’s death. It hadn’t been easy, but everyone seemed to agree that it was an important part of moving on. She still wore it on occasion to remember him, although never on her left ring finger. Alice took the ring gingerly from its velvet box and put it on her right ring finger. Her wedding band was also in the box, but Alice left it there.

It was only an hour and fifteen minutes before the show started when Alice was finally ready to go, so it was with some urgency that she hustled into the living room to collect Loki and Kathy and set out for Manhattan.

“Michael, you ready?” she said, catching sight of him in his customary chair.

He was wearing a long black suit coat with black slacks, along with a green scarf—the kind made from such insubstantial material as to be wearable even on a warm summer night. He looked distinguished and handsome, if a little overdressed. Yes, Loki really was quite an attractive fellow, Alice realized. She’d actually thought that for quite some time, although she’d never allowed herself to linger on the thought. She wondered absently why that was, but before she could ponder more on the subject she remembered the urgency of their departure.

Loki looked up from his book.

“I’ve been ready for hours,” he said dryly, setting his book down and getting to his feet.

“Great, then. We’ve got to leave _now_ ,” Alice said, Kathy following behind her, purse in hand. “Let’s go.”

Alice herded her charges towards the subway, feeling a little ostentatious wearing her cocktail dress in the daylight, although she understood that it stayed light out quite late this time of year. Alice and Kathy click-clicked precariously down the street, while Loki maintained that frustrating grace that she’d always envied.

“So what are we seeing, anyway?” Kathy asked after they’d found standing room in the subway car. “I still don’t know,”

A jolt of the car sent Alice scrambling for her handhold, but once she’d righted herself she answered.

“It’s a Russian opera, by Tchaikovsky. Eugene Onegin,” she said.

Kathy’s face fell a fraction.

“Oh. I mean, I’m sure it will be good, but I was kind of hoping for something I’ve heard of before. …Not that I know very many operas,” she said, a little sheepishly.

Alice nodded sympathetically.

“Well, they only show one per night, obviously. It should be good, I think. I remember my roommate reading the book for a Russian literature class in college, and she said it was amazing,” Alice said brightly, although she was beginning to worry that perhaps the idea of going to the opera would be significantly more exciting than the actual event.

Kathy waved her hand dismissively.

“Oh I’m sure it will be great, honey. I’m thrilled to pieces just to set foot in the Met.”

Somewhat reassured, Alice turned her attention to keeping her balance in the increasingly-full car in her high heels, and before she knew it, they were hurrying out of the subway, into the opera house, and to their seats.

Aided by Alice’s excellent shepherding abilities, they arrived in their seats a good fifteen minutes before the curtain rose, giving Alice a chance to finally catch her breath after collapsing into her seat. With nothing to do now but wait, Alice took a moment to absorb her surroundings, and her heart floated into her throat as she looked around her. The Met was gorgeous—a huge, intimate, red-velvet-and-gold musicbox of a building.

“I’m going to use the lady’s room before it starts,” Kathy whispered, leaning over towards Alice and interrupting her reverie. Alice nodded in understanding without looking at her mother, still captivated by the building, and she heard the rustle of Kathy’s dress as she got up from her seat.

Alice continued her observations for a while longer, but her gaze eventually fell to the man seated at her right, wondering what Loki would think of all of this splendor. Was it perhaps pale in comparison to the golden halls of Asgard?

Loki rested comfortably in the plush seat, legs crossed, elbows on the armrests, and fingers laced together in front of his chest. He looked completely and utterly at home in these sumptuous environs.

“Do they have opera in your… homeland?” she asked hesitantly.

Loki turned his head towards her, eyebrows raised slightly in acknowledgment of her question.

“Yes, of course. It is not quite the same in form and custom as yours, but it is similar,” he said calmly.

“Do you enjoy it?” Alice asked, suddenly feeling inexplicably shy. It occurred to her that he might not appreciate her dragging him to this event, and it left her feeling self-conscious. “I mean… do you mind coming?”

“Not at all. I have always appreciated theater, and that Al Capone book was getting old,” he said with a smile that Alice suspected was not meant to look like a smirk, but still did. Loki simply had a face built for smirking.

It suddenly occurred to Alice that since learning of Loki’s true identity, she had asked little to no questions about his life, his culture, or his past. She’d had about a half an hour to Google him between when he’d told her his identity and when Kathy had returned with food that morning, so she had little to go on. Her trust in him was unquestioning, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t curious. A thousand questions populated in her brain at once, but before she had a chance to choose between them, much less give any of them utterance, the lights dimmed. Kathy scurried back to her seat at Alice’s side, and Alice’s attention was drawn to the glittering curtain in front of her.

The theater was heavy with silent anticipation, anticipation that was soon gratified by the soaring notes of the overture.

While opera had not much interested Alice in the past, something about the way the live music filled the space around her in a concrete, physical way in this magical opera house was absolutely enthralling. An excitement and intense engagement took hold of her, and she focused her entire attention on the performance, her fingers curling around her armrest unconsciously.

Eugene and Tatyana’s stories unfolded on the stage in front of her, and though the story itself was rather slow and uneventful, and though Alice had to read the subtitles above the stage to understand what was being said, she still found herself completely engaged.

Eugene Onegin, for which the opera was named, was not a man she could much sympathize with. He was a spoiled, privileged Russian aristocrat with not a care in the world, but his very idleness left him feeling cold and aimless. Needless to say, the ennui he felt at leading a life of too much ease was not something Alice could relate to. Tatyana, on the other hand, was someone she could get behind. The young woman’s naive earnestness, and the vulnerability of her feelings for Eugene was only too familiar to Alice, though she couldn’t quite understand why Tatyana would care for a guy as worthless as Eugene.

Tatyana wrote a passionate confession to Eugene, and inevitably the letter found its way into Eugene’s hands, just like every crush Alice had ever experienced had been inevitably revealed to embarrassing effect.

“I have read the avowal of a trusting heart, the outpouring of an innocent love; your candour touched me deeply,” Eugene sang back to Tatyana, his kindness and understanding only serving to intensify Tatyana’s shame.

He let her down softly, explaining that while she was wonderful and good and kind, he was simply not cut out for marriage.

At the end of his lecture, he sang, “Learn to control your feelings; Not everyone will understand you as I do. Inexperience leads to disaster!”

Anger and sadness welled within Alice at Eugene’s words. Trust, faith, vulnerability, earnestness—these were the very things that made life full and good and worth living. The cynic’s view of the world was pretentious and grating to her. No moral superiority could be claimed simply by displaying a world-weary wisdom and familiarity with human folly.

Alice felt some vindication as Eugene was punished for his thoughtless and cynical view of the world. His shooting of his friend Lensky, and eventual realization of Tatyana’s value only after she had moved on and married was somewhat satisfying, although Alice preferred stories where flawed characters had at least a shot at redemption. Perhaps she could imagine a sequel—a future for Eugene wherein he had a chance to learn from his mistakes and not be such a pretentious asshole.

As it was, though, the composer did not give Eugene the chance to mend his ways on stage, and the curtain fell on a defeated and despairing Eugene. The curtain rose again and the performers bowed, and Alice clapped long and hard for them

"How did you like it, mom?" she said, turning her head towards her mother while she continued clapping.

"Oh Alice, it was divine!" Kathy gushed, also still clapping, "thank you so much for taking me."

They made their way out of the theater, their progress slow and confused amongst the throng of well-dressed attendees. A large portion of the audience moved towards the subway, but Alice pulled Kathy and Loki out of the stampede and to the side.

"Let's take a cab. It's late and I think it's worth the splurge," Alice said, grinning a little at the thrill that accompanied wasting money.

Alice hustled over to the curb where a line of taxis already awaited the opera-goers and flagged one down. With a nod of assent from the cabbie, she opened the front door for Kathy, then slid into the back seat next to Loki.

"Well, the music was transcendent, of course, but I do think the story could have been better," Kathy said as soon as they were buckled in and on the road

"Really?" Alice said, surprised. "I mean, I suppose not that much happened, but it felt very... relevant," she continued, searching for the right word to describe how true and real the characters had felt to her.

"Maybe it's just that I love a good love story," Kathy said, waving her hand. "And this was definitely a bit of a downer."

"It ended how it should have," Alice said resolutely. "Eugene certainly did not deserve Tatyana. I for one am glad that she chose to be true to her husband, and didn't give in to him just because he decided to change his mind now that she's rich and beautiful."

"Ugh, that is so unromantic of you, Alice. You've always been too practical," Kathy complained in mock disgust.

"It's not that I'm not romantic! I just think that love, real love, isn't about someone making googly eyes at you across a ballroom. Real, lasting love is about trust, first and foremost. Tatyana couldn't love Eugene because she has no reason to trust him. Her faithfulness to her husband is way more romantic than any letter she wrote."

Loki snorted from where he lounged next to her, and Alice started.

"Please. Trust is an illusion. Men cannot even trust themselves, much less anyone else," he said.

"People can't trust themselves? What is that supposed to mean?" Alice asked, the leather of her seat groaning as she shifted towards him.

"How can you trust what you do not know? What you do not understand? Most people do not even understand themselves, and therefore cannot trust themselves."

"OK, calm down Mr. Scrooge," Kathy said derisively. "I didn't realize you were such a misanthrope. Especially when you have so much evidence of the goodness of humanity in front of you!"

Loki scoffed.

"Evidence? What evidence."

"Well, for one, my daughter brought you into her home, demonstrating a huge amount of faith in your basic goodness and human decency," Kathy said.

"Yes, and a _great_ decision that turned out to be,” Loki said, voice dripping in sarcasm.

Alice understood his sarcasm—she had trusted him and he’d turned out to be a known enemy of humanity. Still, Kathy didn’t know that, and Alice didn’t like the implication that Alice had been wrong to trust Loki. It was true that Loki was a dangerous person with a complicated past, but if anything Alice had grown to trust him even more since learning his true identity.

Kathy’s expression was blocked by the divider between the front and back seats, but Alice could hear the frown in her voice.

“What do you mean?” Kathy said, a hint of caution entering her voice.

“It… it _was_ a good decision, Michael,” Alice said, remonstrating. “Don’t sell yourself short. You’ve earned my trust.”

Loki turned his pale eyes towards Alice, a strange mixture of disdain and guilt barely visible through his mostly-opaque expression. He held her gaze for a long moment, then turned his head away, crossing his arms and looking out the window of the cab onto the lamplit street.

“I suppose,” he said.

Conversation died out, but Alice kept her attention on Loki, admiring the way the city lights illuminated his pale skin. Luminescent under the fluorescent lights, his sharply-defined features reminded Alice of the Italian marble statues she’d seen in a museum once when she was a teenager. In all honesty, his sharp cheekbones and precise bone structure were a little too delicate for Alice’s tastes. Andy had had a square jaw, regularly graced with a reddish scruff that she’d always mostly-jokingly complained about kissing. He’d had a much earthier, working-man look to him that Alice had always loved.

Still, Alice continued looking at Loki. She unconsciously fiddled with the ring on her right hand, twisting it around on her finger and feeling the diamonds against her skin, the diamonds that reminded her of the literally god-like man seated next to her. He might not be her type, but she could certainly get used to looking at him.

“I think…” Alice said, eventually breaking the silence, “I think that what Eugene needed was a purpose.”

Loki turned his head from the window to look back at her, his hand still hovering by his chin.

“A purpose,” he said flatly.

“Yeah. I mean, almost all of the bad things that happened happened because Eugene was privileged, bored, and careless. It's like…” Alice trailed off, trying to think of a good way to describe it, “It’s like the rich teenagers we get at the hospital sometimes—the ones who've OD’d on drugs or were driving under the influence. They have everything they could possibly need or want, but they don't know what to do with it. They've also rarely had to deal with negative consequences, so they end up living recklessly, and hurting themselves and everyone around them. _That's_ why people need to have a purpose.”

“But perhaps no purpose is better than an evil one. At least Eugene didn't want to steal Olga away from Lensky, or have his way with Tatyana unmarried, or even become a powerful politician for his own gain,” Loki countered.

Alice rolled her eyes.

“Well, yeah, obviously he could have been worse, but why is that an excuse? Mom, what do you think?”

“Hmm?” Kathy said from the front seat, clearly not paying attention.

“I think Eugene’s problem was that he didn’t have a purpose,” Alice said, summarizing her thoughts for her mother’s benefit.

Kathy thought about it for a moment before twisting around to face Alice and Loki through the taxi divider.

“I can see that. He wasn’t malicious, but he also wasn’t really trying to do anything good either. In my experience, if you’re not helping, you’re usually hurting. All I can say is, if you accidentally end up shooting your friend, you must be doing _something_ wrong,” Kathy said.

Loki held up his hands in surrender, a conciliatory smile on his face.

“You have me convinced, I admit defeat.” he said.

“It’s not about _winning_ , Michael. We’re just having a discussion,” Alice said, smacking him on the arm with the back of her hand. He started a little at the contact, looking back at her in surprise. She smiled.

They reached home soon afterwards, and Kathy made right for the bedroom.

“My sleep schedule is _way_ out of whack,” she said, stifling a yawn. “I couldn’t sleep for hours last night, so I’m basically a zombie at this point.”

Alice also felt tired, but not quite ready to let go of the evening. It had been so much fun, such an invigorating change of pace from her normal routine, and as soon as she went to sleep she’d have to wake up to another humdrum day of work.

Her black heels hit the wooden floor with a heavy thunk, and she dropped down into her favorite spot on the couch. Loki sat down across from her in his customary chair, although he did so with significantly more grace and control. He picked up his Al Capone book and crossed his legs.

“Did you really mean it? When you said nobody can trust anybody?” Alice said after a long pause.

“Yes,” Loki said with a sigh. Something about his world-weary groan reminded Alice of Greg, the self-important, faux-intellectual, self-declared nihilist who used to bug the hell out of Alice in her philosophy class in college.

Alice shook her head.

“No. There must be someone you trust. What about your parents? Or your brother? There must be someone.”

“I don’t trust them,” he said, all emotion fleeing his voice.

“Why not?” Alice asked, knowing she was pushing her luck a little with personal questions, but daring it anyway.

Loki set the book down and leaned over his knees, hands clasped in front of him, and fixed Alice with an intense gaze.

“Do you know what I am?” he asked.

Alice’s brow furrowed at his words. Was this some kind of trick question? She glanced back towards the hallway, worried that if she were to answer, Kathy might overhear something she shouldn’t.

“Don’t worry, your mother’s already asleep,” Loki said, reading her thoughts. He nodded his chin at her. “Go ahead and say it. What am I?”

“You’re a… a god. You’re one of the Aesir,” she said eventually, grateful for the short time she’d had with Google to look him up.

“See, that’s where you’re wrong,” he said, bitterness seeping into his voice. “My so-called father and brother are Aesir, but I am jotun, a member of the race of monsters Asgard has declared its sworn enemy.”

“Jotun?” Alice said.

“You might have heard them called Frost Giants,” Loki said his gaze shifting to his interlocked fingers, his knuckles paling as his grip tightened. “After slaughtering hundreds of my kind, Odin found me—abandoned and undersized—and decided to keep me. All my life I could tell I was different, I could tell that Odin did not see me as a son in quite the same way as Thor, but he never told me. Tell me, would you trust a man who treated you as lesser and lied to you your entire life?”

The heavy atmosphere of the room weighed on Alice, and she felt her heart break at his words. Not for a second did she doubt their veracity. Hesitating only for a moment, she rose to her feet and walked over towards Loki’s chair. Any uncertainty she had about what to do was overpowered by an intense need to comfort. It was nice to be able to offer comfort instead of receiving it for once.

So focused was Loki on his clenched hands that he flinched when Alice placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. Alice squeeze his shoulder, almost surprised but gratified to feel malleable flesh under her fingers.

“I am sorry he lied to you. That was wrong,” she said.

Loki ducked his head, turning it to the side so she could not make out his expression.

“It is of no importance. At the very least it taught me a valuable lesson,” he said.

Needing to see his face, Alice knelt down in front of him, moving her hand from his shoulder to his cheek.

“No, it is important. I just hope that… at the very least… you can learn to trust me,” she said.

Knowing that he would be there for her, that he would keep her safe, that she could trust him—all this had made such a difference to Alice. He’d given her such a beautiful gift, she wanted desperately to return the favor.

Her hand on his cheek directed his gaze towards her, and Loki’s icy eyes met Alice’s. In those azure depths she first read confusion, anger, and fear, but when she searched farther she could also make out hope, vulnerability, and affection far beneath the surface.

This close to him, knowing he was in pain, knowing how much he mattered to her, and wanting so much to help, Alice couldn’t help but feel drawn to him. Much of their conversation from that morning was hazy to her now, but she remembered that he had kissed her. Perhaps he would appreciate her reciprocation.

She leaned forward over her knees, angling her head to fit under his, and placed her other hand on his thigh for balance. His eyes remained locked on hers, widening slightly at her increased proximity. She could feel the warmth of his breath against her lips when his hands suddenly gripped her arms, holding her away from him.

Recognizing his rejection immediately, Alice fell back onto her hands on the floor, scooting away from him before getting to her feet.

“What do you think you’re doing,” he said, his expression almost painfully intense.

“I’m so sorry, I don’t know where…” she sputtered, hiding her face in her hands.

“You were making a big mistake,” Loki said tautly. He was mostly successful in maintaining his composure, although his shoulders heaved slightly.

“I thought… maybe because of this morning…” Alice said, hunching over in embarrassment and feeling like she was fifteen years old all over again.

“-What I did before was foolish,” he said, interrupting her. “I am trying not to be careless any more.”

“-I get it,” Alice said, desperate not to hear any more. “I get it. I’m sorry. Let’s just not talk about this any more.”

Loki nodded from his chair, and Alice backed away towards the hallway.

“I’m going to bed,” she said, then she turned and fled.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy this latest chapter, and sorry for the wait! I was suffering from some altitude sickness when I edited it, so hopefully it doesn’t come out too wonky.

When she was a girl, any time something particularly embarrassing happened to Alice she would pop a romantic comedy into her VHS player, eat junk food, and take a vacation from her life. It comforted her to watch successful, unreasonably beautiful actresses find themselves in humiliating situations, or to witness awkward heroines find happiness in the end despite their faults and mishaps. _Bridget Jones’s Diary_ , _Never Been Kissed_ , _Clueless_ —all perfect antidotes for the everyday indignities of adolescence.

Unfortunately, there was no cute, idealized movie that could help Alice with her current situation. Alice sincerely doubted there was a fluffy chick-flick out there that came even close to addressing the humiliation of throwing yourself at a 1,053-year-old (Alice had looked it up) alien-god-man who had once invaded the earth.

Alice was determined to deal with the situation like a mature adult. She was 35 years old, and she didn’t need to rely on childhood coping tactics to deal with her problems. Of course, she still needed some time and distance from the incident before she would be ready to face it with maturity and grace, which was why the morning after their trip to the opera, Alice snuck out of the apartment in the pre-dawn hours, holding her breath as she tip-toed past Loki’s room. She made it out of the apartment undetected, slept her entire bus commute, then eagerly threw herself into work as soon as she arrived at the hospital, ignoring the fact that she was several hours early for her shift.

Work wasn’t easy with her stitched-up arm, but thankfully Alice’s colleagues helped lighten the load. Alice spent a lot of the day doing administrative work, which was boring but easier on the arm.

At first she spent her filing time torturing herself by replaying the events of the previous evening. What had possessed her to try and kiss Loki? It was a genuine mystery to Alice. She’d always been cognizant of his good looks, but that had never translated to any romantic inclinations until very recently. Still, when she thought about it, she supposed it made sense. Only the day before she had expounded upon the close relationship between trust and love to Kathy and Loki, and there was nobody Alice trusted more than Loki.

Alice paused on that thought for a moment, taking a break from filing. It struck her as odd that Loki, an alien she had only met less than a year ago, would be the person she trusted most in the world. As soon as she recognized the oddness of the fact, however, its truth reasserted itself. It didn’t matter _why_ she trusted him—she just _did_. And that was never going to change.

Alice sighed and shook her head, not wanting to dwell on the embarrassments of the previous day. As boring as it was, she forced herself to actually focus on the filing, and found herself suddenly remarkably productive.

She was halfway through a stack of papers and successfully distracted from the previous night’s events when Esther told her a friend was here to see her. Alice went to the cafeteria to get some lunch and meet up with said friend, and was only somewhat surprised to find Natasha waiting for her.

Alice sat across from the spy with her tray of sad cafeteria food, which Natasha unsurprisingly did not stoop to partake in. As she looked across the table at the super-spy, a disturbing thought occurred to Alice: had she seen Alice’s failed romantic overture the night before? Alice knew that SHIELD was monitoring her, she just didn’t know how closely. Alice ducked her head and tried to fight the flush she could feel rising in her cheeks, hoping desperately that SHIELD didn’t have any kind of surveillance actually _inside_ of her apartment. The thought of Natasha seeing her blunder the night before made Alice want to curl up into a ball of shame, then melt into a puddle of shame, then drain down a shame sink.

“I’m so sorry about the injury you sustained,” Natasha said, leaning forward across the table. “The man who attacked you… he’s someone Michael harmed in the past,” she said.

“Oh, I know. I understand,” Alice said quickly, wanting to reassure Natasha that she knew why everything had happened, and blamed neither Natasha nor SHIELD. Her light tone may also have resulted from her relief that Natasha didn’t seem to know anything about the previous night.

Natasha’s brows knit together ever so slightly, and her near-constant frown deepened.

“You understand? What do you mean?” Natasha said. “What did he tell you?”

“He told me who he is,” Alice said, accenting the admission with a casual shrug. Natasha’s stare intensified.

“What?” she said sharply.

“He told me he’s… you know...” Alice trailed off, not sure what she was allowed to say in public.

“What did he tell you?” Natasha said, her gaze as grim as her voice.

“He told me he’s not... From here,” Alice said, trying to say something specific enough that Natasha would understand but vague enough to be safe. “He told me that his brother is a friend of yours. He told me what he did to New York six years ago.”

Natasha’s eyes widened, then she covered an eye with her palm, sighing deeply.

“Well. That’s unfortunate,” she said.

“It will be fine, Natasha, really. I won’t tell anyone. His secret is safe with me,” Alice said.

Natasha looked up at Alice sharply.

“You sound… happy. If you know who he is, why aren’t you more concerned?” Natasha said.

What kind of a question was that? Natasha seemed to suggest that Loki wasn’t the kind of person Alice should want to be around, that she should be upset by his very presence. Natasha’s negativity grated on Alice’s nerves. She leaned back in her chair and frowned.

“I was worried at first, when I didn’t know who he was. But he’s told me everything he did, and why. I trust him.”

Natasha’s left eyebrow quirked upwards.

“ _Trust_ him? You do realize he’s the God of _Lies_ , right?” she said.

“I heard mischief,” Alice shot back.

“Is there _really_ a material difference between the two?” Natasha said.

“Yes, there is,” Alice snapped. Why was she getting angry? She shoved the thought—not even a fully-conceptualized question—aside before it got in the way of her ire. “I thought the reason you wanted me to stay with him is because he's getting better, and now you don't believe me when I say that it’s really happening.”

“It’s just that this is a pretty quick reversal in attitude from you. He's been known to control people before-”

Alice set her bland sandwich down on her tray and grabbed her purse, having had enough of Natasha if she was just going to throw accusations around.

“Look, I really need to get back to work. And frankly, I find being accused of being brainwashed a little insulting” Alice said with as much dignity as she could muster as she rose from her seat.

Natasha reached a hand out to halt her.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Natasha said, her voice surprisingly soft and… sympathetic. “Please sit down?”

“I’m sorry if I’m coming across a little intense. It’s just that I’ve dealt with him before, and he’s hurt people I care about.”

Alice sat back down, a little embarrassed by her overreaction, and Natasha leaned forward, speaking quietly.

“He controlled one of my colleagues. My… dear friend. So I’m sensitive to this kind of thing. And maybe he’s not doing anything like that, but you were just stabbed on the street. It would make sense if you were rattled. I hope you’re not operating under a defense mechanism—a false sense of security.”

“I… may have overreacted, Alice admitted. “Michael has helped me a lot over the past months. He protected me when I was attacked. I guess I just don’t like hearing him attacked.”

Natasha’s lips pursed, and she looked at Alice for a long moment.

“Ah… I see,” she finally said.

“But, you know, this is good news. I’m keeping track of Michael, and I really believe he’s reformed. You don’t need to worry about him—or me—any more,” Alice said.

Natasha returned Alice’s look for another long moment, then looked to the side, gripping the side of the table with her hands.

“I’m really glad that things are working out for you. Still, there are a lot of things you don’t know about people with his kind of abilities—a lot you don’t know about magic. I have a friend I would like for you to talk to, someone you can go to if you have any questions or need anything,” Natasha said.

“I don’t think that’s necessary…” Alice said, not sure how involved she wanted to get with SHIELD.

“I know that you are feeling really good about things, and that you trust him, and that’s great. Please just do this for our peace of mind, OK? For _my_ peace of mind” Natasha said, looking up at Alice over her clasped hands with a look of open sincerity.

Alice sighed and scratched at her knee. She supposed if SHIELD was paying her $50,000 a month for nothing, the least she could do was go talk to their magic expert.

“OK. I guess I can talk to your friend,” she said.

Natasha graced Alice with a small smile.

“Excellent.”

She pulled a card from her pocket and handed it to Alice.

“You have a day off on Thursday, right? Go to this address at noon,” Natasha said.

Alice took the card and examined it.

_177A Bleecker St, NYC._

“His name is Doctor Strange.”

\---

It turned out all of Alice’s anxiety about seeing Loki again post-humiliation was unfounded. When she returned home from work that evening, he seemed perfectly content to act as though nothing had happened. He might have been slightly cooler to her than usual, talking primarily with Kathy instead of Alice whenever he chose to engage his hosts in conversation. That was just fine by Alice, as long as he never mentioned her botched attempt at romance ever.

Life ended up continuing on in a manner quite similar to the previous week. Alice went to work, and when she came home she either went out with Kathy to do something touristy and fun, or stayed in and watched a movie or just talked with Kathy and Loki. However, while their schedules nicely imitated pre-revelation patterns, Alice was still painfully aware of the change in atmosphere. The weight of the things both Alice and Loki knew that they did not say saturated the space between them, changing the way they navigated around each other like a heavy body warping a gravitational field. For some reason Alice still wanted desperately for Loki to stay with her, but their cohabitation was becoming increasingly uncomfortable.

By the time Thursday came, Alice was simply grateful for a chance to talk to someone who wasn’t her mother or Loki. She told Loki and Kathy she was going to a coworker’s baby shower (it was funny how easily lying was coming to her lately), and took the subway to the address on Natasha’s business card. She didn’t think Loki believed her story, but like everything else that had happened between them lately, he didn’t say anything.

177A Bleecker St. was in Manhattan, nearby Greenwich Village. The building was a brick structure with some Victorian accents and a large, strange window at the top that didn't look like it belonged to any time period. Alice had been expecting something more like Stark Tower, with a stronger, flashy, more modern feel to it, but upon further reflection if she was meeting with someone familiar with magic, this fit the bill.

She walked up the steps to the heavy front door and knocked, a little worried that the shallow sound of her dainty knuckles against the dense wood wouldn't carry far into the large building. There was no doorbell, so she didn't have much of an option, but thankfully the door was opened for her almost immediately. She was ushered inside by a plump Asian man with buzzed hair, wearing robes that reminded Alice of the Tibetan monks she’d seen on TV before. He looked to Alice like he was in his late thirties or early forties, but she couldn't really be sure. He smiled warmly at Alice, and Alice couldn’t help but think that he must be a kind man.

“Welcome to the Sanctum Sanctorum,” he said.

“Doctor Strange?” Alice said, shaking his hand.

“Oh, no, he wishes!” the monk said with a laugh. “My name is Wong, and you are Alice Wakefield, correct?”

Alice nodded a little uncertainly, slowly retrieving her hand from his warm grip.

“Come, I'll take you to the study.”

He gestured for Alice to follow, and led her up a grand staircase and through a gallery of artifacts that looked both obscure and mystical. Alice resisted the urge to stop and admire, and followed Wong up another set of stairs and into a study lined from floor to ceiling with books. At the end of the study in front of the strange window Alice had noticed outside lay a large wooden desk, and at it sat a man.

The man rose to his feet upon their entrance, and he somehow seemed both completely foreign and strangely familiar to Alice. He was wearing a blue knee-length robe, belted at the waist, with grey pants underneath. Over his shoulders draped a red cloak with an excessively high popped collar. The clothing was utterly bizarre, but the face—long and gaunt with protruding cheekbones, dark brown hair with a dash of grey at the temples—was familiar.

Alice followed Wong up to the desk, and as she approached, the man reached a hand out towards her. She extended her own to shake, but as soon as her eyes caught on the horrific scars covering his outstretched hand, she remembered where she knew him from.

“Dr. Stephen Strange!” she blurted out.

He furrowed his brows, a little taken aback by her outburst, but his hand remained extended in greeting.

“Yes, that is my name,” he said evenly.

Alice flushed, and hurriedly grabbed his hand and shook.

“I, um, my name's Alice Wakefield. I'm a nurse at County. I was there when you still worked there.”

His eyebrows settled in understanding.

“Ah, I see. Well I am sorry that I do not remember-” he started to say.

“-Oh, I didn't know you! Just… by reputation. I didn't work in neuro or anything, but I'd heard of you and I saw you around sometimes,” Alice said, wishing she hadn’t found a way to make this more awkward than it already was.

“Well. I suppose it is comforting to know that I left an impression,” he said, settling back into his seat and gesturing for her and Wong to sit in the two chairs in front of the desk.

Alice took her seat and pulled her bag into her lap, clutching at it nervously. At the hospital Doctor Strange had been known for being… difficult. The phrase “pompous asshole” may have been thrown about at times.

“I, uh…I have to admit I'm a little surprised. Natasha made it sound like I'd be meeting with a sorcerer or something. But I guess if she thinks I'm brainwashed a neurosurgeon makes sense,” Alice said.

Doctor Strange grimaced, as if being referred to as a neurosurgeon was distasteful to him. From what she'd heard about him, Alice would have thought the opposite would be true.

“I no longer practice medicine, Miss Wakefield, but I wouldn't call myself a sorcerer either. I prefer the term “Master of the Mystic Arts,” he said without a drop off irony. Alice nodded, taking the ludicrous title in stride. Knowing his history, Alice understood that he was not a man who lacked confidence.

“So, um, what am I here for, if you don't mind my asking? Natasha didn't give me any details,” Alice said.

Doctor Strange leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers.

“Agent Romanoff informed me that you are currently keeping the company of an Asgardian sorcerer named Loki. He has been known to use mind control, and Agent Romanoff seems to think you may have been compromised,” he said.

Alice pursed her lips and folded her arms defensively against her chest.

“I know what she thinks, but it's not true. Loki wouldn't do that to me.”

Doctor Strange's heavy eyebrows rose.

“Oh? What makes you so certain?” he asked.

Alice huffed.

“I just _know_ ,” she said, but she could see from his still-raised brow that this was not a convincing argument. She searched for reasoning that might be more persuasive than her instincts.

“He's grateful to me—respects me, even. After The Return he sat nearly-comatose in the hospital for three months, and I took him in, not knowing anything about him. He wouldn't use me like that after what I've done for him.”

Doctor Strange took a moment to observe Alice over his steepled fingers, then set them on the desk, gaze turning to his scarred fingers before returning to her face.

“I'm sure as a nurse you have met with patients with hallucinations before,” he said evenly.

“Yes…”

“And how easy is it to convince someone who's hallucinating that what they are seeing isn't real?” he asked.

Alice fought down the frown threatening to mar her features.

“It's nearly impossible. They have no reason to trust you over their own senses,” she said.

“And that is precisely what is so tricky about mind control,” Doctor Strange said. “It turns your senses, your instincts, your most powerful tools of judgment, against you. And that is why I hope you understand why Agent Romanoff would send you to me as a precautionary measure.”

Alice considered his words for a long moment, a part of her wanting to get angry again, then accepted them. She let out a puff of breath, and set her hands on the arms of her chair.

“All right then, do whatever divinations or incantations you need to do.”

He smiled a miniscule, wry smile, then rose from his seat.

“Stand over here, and I’ll start my ‘incantations,’ as you so eloquently put it,” he said, gesturing to the center of the room.

Alice obliged, setting her bag on the chair and moving to stand in the middle of the plush rug. Doctor Strange stood by the large window in front of her, with one arm outstretched towards her and the other bent closer to his chest. He held his mangled fingers in perfectly-controlled, precise gestures and began moving his outstretched hand in a slow, perfect circle. As he moved, orange discs of light appeared in front of his hands, the discs etched with intricate geometric patterns that flowed and shifted in mesmerizing sequence.

Captivated, Alice lost herself in the strange beauty of the doctor’s magic. She knew that Loki could use magic, that he _had_ used magic in her home before—but this was the first time she’d ever witnessed it with her own eyes. She wondered what Loki’s magic would look like. Some mysterious instinct told her that it would look quite different from this, and she wondered what the form of Loki’s magic would tell her about him.

Eventually, Doctor Strange halted his motions. The saffron discs faded away and he stepped back as his hands fell to his side, a frown on his face. For the first time since Natasha first mentioned her concerns, Alice felt nervous. She knew she couldn’t possibly be brainwashed, but what would she do if the doctor said she was?

“What’s the verdict, doc?” she said with forced lightness.

“Inconclusive,” he said, his brows furrowing over his eyes as he examined her like he was interpreting a particularly perplexing medical chart.

“What did you see, Stephen?” asked Wong from where he leaned on the desk, arms crossed.

“Her mind is not being controlled, that much is clear,” Doctor Strange said, and an inexplicable wave of relief passed through Alice. Why was that? She’d never truly believed Loki would control her.

“However,” he continued, and Alice’s blood froze in her veins, “he may be exerting some form of influence over her. Not complete control, but… something like persuasion.”

He took a step towards Alice and narrowed his eyes, his frown deepening. “I am not familiar with Asgardian magic, so I can’t know for certain.”

The freeze in Alice’s veins thawed somewhat, but left a chill in its wake.

“What does that mean?” she asked quietly.

Doctor Strange sighed, his eyes wandering the room.

“It means that I don’t know exactly what’s going on. I suspect he may have enchanted you, but I’m not sure.”

Doctor Strange’s gaze returned to Alice, this time seeing her as a person instead of a problem.

“Have you felt yourself lately? Have you done anything… out of character? Or something you’ve never done before? Have you been losing certain trains of thought? Avoiding certain ideas?”

For a moment, his questions confused her, then certainty returned to her strained mind.

“No. No, I have been feeling fine. Nothing unusual,” she said confidently, holding her shoulders back and her chin high.

“Hm,” Doctor Strange said, his skepticism unvoiced but evident.

He considered her for another long moment, then returned to his seat at the desk. Alice followed suit.

“I don’t know that there’s much else I can do to… diagnose your magical malady,” he said, an eyebrow quirking in amusement at his own almost-joke. “I’ll need to do more research on Asgardian magic, but that will take time. In the meantime, I still think I can be of service to you.”

“How so?” asked Alice.

“Whether or not Loki has any ill intention towards you, the fact remains that you are incredibly vulnerable in your current position. Even with SHIELD’s surveillance, any number of things could go wrong. I propose you come here periodically, say once a week, and I can train you in some basic defenses. You will never be anywhere near as powerful as Loki, but I can get you to a point where you can at least run away if you need to.”

It took a moment for Alice to process his words. He was proposing something that she had never once before considered, even in her wildest imaginations.

“Are you offering to teach me… magic?” she asked incredulously.

“As I said, I prefer the term mystic arts, but yes.”

“Is that even something I am capable of?”

“Perhaps not. But you have been exposed to more magic than most people. Perhaps it will come more easily to you. It doesn’t hurt to try.”

A creature of habit, Alice’s natural inclination was to refuse. Her brain applied the transitive property to the offer: learning the “mystic arts” from a mysterious stranger equals big changes, big changes equals unpredictability, unpredictability equals bad.

“I don’t… um… Thank you, but…” she began.

“-I understand your reluctance, but we only wish to assist you,” Wong said before she could wander her way into her rejection. “Those burdened with an understanding of other dimensions—other realities—can be… difficult to understand. Armed with information, you will be better prepared to help your friend.”

The monk’s words made sense, and with more time to examine her feelings, Alice realized that her reluctance was mostly born of inertia rather than logic. With the recommendation of the Avengers, Alice had no reason to mistrust the two men, and there could be no harm in accepting their help. And besides, if she ever decided she didn’t want to meet with them any more, she could just stop.

“OK then. I accept your offer.”

\---

Loki was waiting for her outside. He leaned, arms crossed, against a lamppost in a black suit with matching black dress shirt, looking like some kind of emo art gallery owner. Alice understood that he could magic whatever kind of clothing he wanted onto himself, so there was no reason for him to favor the plain Old Navy clothing with which she'd furnished him, but it still made her a little sad that he'd stopped wearing the jeans and polos she'd purchased.

The expression on the sorcerer's face was stern, like he'd caught Alice with her hand in the cookie jar, and Alice swallowed nervously. Things between her and Loki had already been strained in recent days, and it looked like her trip to see Doctor Strange may have made things worse.

“We need to talk,” he said, voice matching his expression.

“OK,” she responded, “let’s go home and we’ll talk.”

He shook his head, pushing off the lamppost and making his way towards her.

“No, not home.”

“Where do you want to go then?” Alice asked, shying away a little at his approach.

“My place,” he said,” then he placed a hand on each of her shoulders, closed his eyes, and _moved_.

Or at least, it seemed like he moved. In the end, it turned out the world around them moved while they stayed still. Alice’s stomach lurched, and her vision blurred, and next she could make out, they were no longer on a New York sidewalk. Loki’s arms left her shoulders, and Alice moved in a slow circle as she observed her new surroundings. She was standing on an ornate oriental rug in the center of a luxuriously-appointed apartment. Fine art hung on the walls, polished hardwood floors lay beneath the rug, and out the windows Alice could see a breathtaking view of the New York skyline. Judging by the size of the apartment and the view, this was probably the penthouse suite.

Loki took a seat on the designer chair at the end of the carpet, inhabiting it like a king on his throne. Seeing how comfortably he perched on the black leather Eames lounge chair, she wondered how she had ever thought of her dingy old recliner as “his chair.”

“It’s remarkable how many empty luxury apartments there are in this city,” Loki said.

Alice blinked, not immediately seeing the connection between his comment and their current location.

“Oh. So this is somebody else’s apartment,” she said.

Loki shrugged.

“Some sheikh or other purchased it as an investment several years ago. I’m sure he doesn’t mind my popping in every once in a while.”

“Are you ever even at home when I’m not there?” Alice asked, an edge to the question she hadn’t intended. All this time she’d thought that he’d made himself a home in her little apartment, but of course her meager living space would never be adequate for a Prince of Asgard.

Sensing the bite to her words, Loki seemed genuinely taken aback by the question. He shook his head.

“Yes. I still spend most of my time in your apartment. But sometimes I need… privacy. A place to plan.”

“Plan?” Alice asked.

“There will be time for that later. Please, sit,” Loki said, gesturing to the white leather sofa diagonal to his chair.

Alice sat on the sofa, her movements slow and measured, and as she did so she felt a hesitancy, a.... tension she hadn’t felt in some time. It took her a moment to recognize the emotion, but she soon realized what she was experiencing: caution; fear.

“So. You’ve met the quaint wizard,” Loki said, a little too casually.

Alice nodded, gathering that he meant Doctor Strange..

“Natasha thought it might be useful for me to talk to another magic user. I obviously don’t know much about… the kinds of things you can do.”

Loki tilted his head to the side.

“Is that the only reason she wanted you to talk to him?”

Alice took a moment to respond. For some reason, she didn’t want to tell Loki that Natasha had suspected brainwashing. Why would Alice be concerned? She trusted Loki completely. What was she worried about? She wasn’t. She wasn’t worried about anything.

_Have you been losing certain trains of thought? Avoiding certain ideas?_

Doctor Strange’s words returned to Alice’s mind, and she closed her eyes, brow furrowing.

“Alice?”

Alice’s eyes snapped open at the sharpness in Loki’s tone. She flinched under his piercing gaze. Seeing her tense, Loki’s gaze softened.

“Alice,” he began again, tone more soothing, “what else was Natasha worried about? You can tell me.”

Yes, he was right. She could tell him anything.

“She was worried. She thought you might be controlling me. Magical brainwashing or something like that. She wanted Doctor Strange to make sure.”

Loki’s gaze centered on her with intense focus.

“Ah, I see,” he said evenly. “And of course they saw that that was not the case.”

Alice nodded again.

“Doctor Strange said that you were not controlling me, at least as far as he could tell.”

She didn’t tell him about the doctor’s concerns that Loki might still be influencing her, but she purposely did not examine why she might leave that information out.

Loki’s elbows still rested on the arms of the chair, but at Alice’s words his shoulders dipped a little, the tension held in them easing slightly.

He rose from the chair and walked over to Alice, sinking down onto the cushion next to her.

“Well I suppose there’s no harm in talking to the sorcerer if you want to,” he said.

Alice bobbed her head in agreement.

“It’s… it would be nice to have someone to talk to. And maybe… maybe I can even be more helpful to you,” she said.

Nodding, Loki shifted his body, orienting himself more towards Alice.

“I would appreciate that, thank you,” he said.

Alice squirmed in her seat uncomfortably, her gaze wandering the apartment in an attempt to avoid Loki’s blue eyes.

“Ahem” Loki couched, and Alice returned her gaze to him. He readjusted his position on the couch, and if Alice didn’t know any better she’d say he looked… awkward. Embarrassed, even.

“These past few days I have been avoiding you, and I apologize,” he said. Alice’s eyes widened in surprise. “Ever since our… misunderstanding, I’ve been pushing you away, and it was wrong of me to punish you for something that was not your fault.”

As pleasant a surprise as it was to receive any kind of apology from Loki, his discomfort was infectious, and Alice had a hard time holding his gaze. Feeling the heat rising in her cheeks, Alice turned her face from him, focusing instead on the New York skyline.

“It’s fine, I overstepped-”

“-No, no. It was an innocent mistake. I value your friendship immensely, and I am sorry to have let a little awkwardness come between us,” he said. He closed the distance between them, and the weight of his arm dropped onto Alice’s shoulder. A part of Alice wondered at the strange mixed signals he was sending her, reconfirming their platonic relationship while increasing the amount of physical touch they shared, but mostly she just felt happy. A wave of contentment rolled through her, washing away the confusion and doubt of the previous hour and immersing Alice in blissful torpor. An easy smile rose to her lips, and Loki, noticing it, smiled back.

Loki took a moment to swallow before continuing, his arm still wrapped around her shoulders. “I could use your friendship right now, Alice. I have a plan. I want to return to my people, to return to my brother.”

As soon as his words registered, Alice’s head whipped towards Loki.

“Really? That.. that’s wonderful news!” she said. “I understand the Asgardians were granted some land in Quebec—when will you be going?”

Loki favored her with a small smile, but shook his head.

“Not yet, I am not ready to return yet. But I have a plan, and I will need your help to accomplish it.”

“Why can’t you just go now? Despite everything that has happened, I am sure your brother would be overjoyed to see you. And your people, too. You are being celebrated as a hero, after all,” Alice said, confused.

Loki’s head shaking continued the whole time Alice spoke, the arc of his disagreement increasing in radius with each shake.

“No. You do not understand. It is easy for them to accept me when they believe I am dead. I cannot simply return,” he said sadly.

“I don’t see how-”

“-Will you help me or not?” Loki snapped, the sadness in his voice quickly replaced by ire.

Alice shrank back from him, immediately sorry for having upset him. He noticed her expression, and calmed instantly.

“I’m sorry, Alice, I’m sorry,” he said, pulling her close again. “Just please trust me when I say this is the best way. Will you please help me?”

“Of course, Loki. Anything.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoy this chapter. I enjoyed writing some more Doctor Strange, and I noticed there are shockingly few Doctor Strange fics :( That’s a shame! Maybe after this story I’ll write a Doctor Strange story… Also, there are a few more pop culture references in this chapter. Let me know if you think it’s too much.

Warm sunlight filtered through the large circular window, illuminating the piece of rug on which Alice stood in the musty mansion. Instead of enjoying the same summer weather birds were loudly enjoying on the other side of the window, she stood alone in the stuffy room, a brass double ring connecting her middle and index fingers, making circles with her hands and waiting for something to happen.

She was glad to be learning from Doctor Strange. She hadn’t been able to actually do much of what he was teaching her, but the information alone was invaluable. A year ago, his lessons would have felt like listening to the ramblings of a madman, but after the reality-bending events of The Snap and The Return, his explanations provided a framework upon which to understand this brave new world.

On top of all she was learning, meeting with Doctor Strange was apparently helpful to Loki and his plan to eventually reunite with his people—which mysterious plan was never far from Alice’s thoughts.

_“I can’t tell you too much about my plans, but all I need for you to do is to continue meeting with the wizard. Get to know him, gain his confidence,” Loki said from his designer chair throne._

_“Why? How will my getting to know Doctor Strange help you?” Alice asked._

_“Several complex and unstable spells feature prominently in my plan, and I may need his help. I would go to him directly, but… our last meeting did not end particularly well. If he were to come to trust you first, then perhaps in time he will be willing to work with me as well.”_

Alice tried another circle in the air, but she knew even before the motion commenced that it would fail. There was no way she’d make a breakthrough while she was thinking about her conversation in Loki’s secret fancy apartment several weeks earlier. Alice banished the stray thoughts from her mind and refocused, starting up her efforts again in earnest.

After about the millionth circle failing to result in anything but sore biceps, Alice huffed in frustration and sat on the floor. She was too old for this.

“It took me a while to be able to use the sling ring, too.”

Alice started, rising quickly to her feet as Doctor Strange entered the room. She hung her head and shifted her feet, a little sheepish at getting caught sulking like a child.

“Loki makes it look so easy,” she said.

“Well he’s had over a thousand years to practice. You’ve had…” Dr. Strange made a show of checking the broken watch he always wore on his wrist, “...two weeks.”

Alice nodded in grudging agreement and got to her feet.

“And besides, Loki’s magic is completely different from what I’m teaching you,” Doctor Strange added, almost as an afterthought.

“Really? Fundamentally different?” Alice asked, curiosity piqued.

“Well, perhaps not _fundamentally_ different, but different enough. The sorcerers of earth draw their power from other dimensions, and use that power to fold space and time and effect whatever change they are going for. The source of Loki’s power, on the other hand, comes from within. You could consider it a gift of his heritage.”

“So… All jotuns can practice magic?”

“For both jotuns and Aesir, and several other extraterrestrial races, magic is a skill that some have a particular talent for, but anyone can learn. It’s like… singing, or gymnastics,” he said, waving his hand as he explained.

The doctor walked over to his desk and Alice followed, taking the seat he gestured to across from him.

“You seem to know a lot about Loki. Did you know him before… all this?” Alice asked.

Doctor Strange looked up as if rifling through a thick tome of memories suspended in the air. He’d told her had an eidetic memory—perhaps that was not far from the truth.

“Ah… not as such. What I know of his people I learned mostly from research and not first-hand knowledge. I met Loki before the interdimensional event most people refer to as The Snap, but we were only in each others’ presence for half a minute or so. Even in that limited time frame, he still managed to threaten to kill me.”

“Interdimensional event?” Alice asked, leaning forward.

Doctor Strange gave her a funny look, and Alice realized that perhaps she should have been more concerned by the death threat part of the story. She supposed she would still like to hear more about that, but it had suddenly occurred to her that Doctor Strange might be one of the handful of people on earth who truly understood what had happened during The Snap. A deeply pragmatic person, Alice had always been much more concerned with dealing with the aftermath of The Snap and The Return than figuring out _why_ or _how_ it had happened, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t curious.

“Yes, I think that is probably the most accurate description,” Doctor Strange said, leaning back into his chair.

The phrase “interdimensional event” didn’t mean much to Alice.

“What exactly happened? I heard that Thanos did it, but why did all of those people disappear, and how did they return?” Alice probed for more details.

“Thanos was an extraterrestrial being who decided that there were too many people in the universe, so he gathered a collection of extremely powerful artifacts called Infinity Stones. Once he had all of them, he was able to destroy half of sentient life in the galaxy with a snap of his fingers.”

“So all of the people who disappeared, they really died?” Alice asked.

There was no consensus, even amongst the returned, as to what precisely had happened to those who had disappeared. Some said they remembered an afterlife, others said they had no memories whatsoever. Some even believed they had been whisked away to some alternate dimension, then brought back. Nobody really knew.

“Oh yes, we died,” Strange said, and Alice’s couldn’t hold back a small gasp of surprise. She hadn’t realized that Doctor Strange had been one of the returned. He smiled a little at her reaction.

“Yes, I was one of those who uh… disintegrated, for lack of a better word. And before you ask, I have no idea what happens after you die. As far as I can tell, everyone who disappeared has a slightly different recollection of their experience. After The Snap everything was… fuzzy. Vague.”

“How did you come back? Were you involved in that at all?” Alice asked.

Doctor Strange nodded, his eyes gaining a far-off look as he contemplated.

“Yes, I helped set things in motion. I can’t really go into details, but I call it an “interdimensional event” because we called on aid and power from dimensions alternative to our own in order to merge our dimension with another one in which Thanos had not succeeded in his scheme.”

It took a moment for all of this information to sink in, but as preposterous and reality-shaking as Doctor Strange’s explanation was, it made sense that such an unthinkable event would have an unthinkable solution. Alice’s head slowly started to nod in an approximation of understanding as she reorganized her knowledge of The Return around this revelation, but she stopped when she came across information that didn’t seem to fit with the doctor’s story.

“But what about Loki?” she voiced her confusion, “Loki told me that Thanos killed him himself, by snapping his neck. Loki wasn’t killed during The Snap, so why was he revived in The Return?”

“Ah, yes. Well, I believed we should merge with a dimension that mirrored ours as closely as possible aside from The Snap. The more differences between the merging dimensions, the greater the danger that the entire endeavor would fail, potentially destroying our dimension altogether. Thor, however, insisted we merge with a dimension in which his brother survived. It was… honestly I did not think it worth the risk, but Thor’s assistance was necessary for our plan to succeed, and he stood firm in his demands,” Doctor Strange said.

_I have a brother._

That was the first thing Loki had ever said about himself. Alice had yet to meet Thor, but the fact that he had been willing to risk the universe for his brother’s life told her that Loki was severely underestimating his brother’s affection for him.

A little uncomfortable with the sheer emotional weight of her discovery, Alice felt the need to shift the focus of the conversation back to Strange. After all, she still knew very little about him in a personal sense.

“And you? How did your family deal with your disappearance? It must have been difficult,” she said.

Doctor Strange shrugged.

“Most of my family is dead, and after my accident,” he raised both hands in reference to his career-ending injury, “I pretty effectively cut myself off from anyone else who still cared. Honestly Wong and Dr. Palmer are probably the only people who even noticed I was gone.”

Alice winced a little at his brutal honesty—his situation hit painfully close to home. In her darker moments, Alice had wondered if more than a handful people would have even noticed if she’d disappeared during The Snap. Then she realized she recognized both of the names Doctor Strange had mentioned.

“Dr. Palmer as in Christine Palmer from ER?” Alice asked.

Doctor Strange nodded, retreating his hands back into a defensive, crossed position.

“You know her?”

“Yeah. Not well, but… I’ve worked at the hospital for a long time,” Alice said, punctuating the sentence with a wry smile. “She’s nice,” she added. It felt like the right thing to say

Doctor Strange smiled—a true, honest-to-goodness smile.

“Yes she is.”

Alice blinked at the fondness of his tone, something she’d only heard from him before in reference to his books, and a question he’d probably consider impertinent was on the tip of her tongue when he continued speaking.

“And you? Did you lose any family members to The Snap?”

“Only my sister-in-law. Not that she’s not important to me, but… My father has never been in the picture, and my husband is dead, so I don’t have as many people as most to lose,” she said.

As soon as she said it, she regretted it. Alice didn’t like feeling as if she were begging for sympathy, and she rarely gave in to bouts of self-pity. Perhaps the depressing subject matter was putting her in a dour mood.

Strange nodded solemnly, as if he could possibly understand.

“My parents and both siblings are also dead. Telling myself that at least I had nothing left to lose was one of the ways I tried to pretend I was OK,” he said.

Oh. Perhaps he _did_ understand.

“I'm… I'm so sorry,” Alice said, knowing that as little comfort as those words brought, it was even worse not to hear them.

“It's fine,” Doctor Strange said with forced nonchalance. Then he seemed to check himself. “Well, it's actually not fine at all, but you learn to deal with it. I imagine you understand.”

Strange seemed to decide they’d had enough bonding time, and he pushed back from his desk and rose to his feet.

“Well, let’s get back to your training. I saw some of your more recent attempts, and while your technique is solid, I think you could improve your focus.”

Realizing that her break was officially over, Alice returned to her customary plot of rug with a sigh. She expected Doctor Strange to stand in front of her and, once again, demonstrate how she was supposed to create a portal through time and space with nothing but a brass ring and a wave of her arms, but he didn’t. She swiveled around to see what he was doing, and found him at the back of the room, fiddling with some speakers she had never noticed before. A heavy synth beat started playing, the familiar beats filling the room more loudly than she had expected.

“Sweet Dreams (Are Made of This), Eurythmics, hit number one the week of September 3, 1983,” Doctor Strange said as he returned to the center of the room.

“Uh, OK,” Alice said, a little confused. “I like this song.”

Doctor Strange paced around Alice, his hands behind his back.

“I sometimes find that working to music helps me relax, and you seemed tense. Let me know if you want me to turn it off. Or change genres.”

Alice's eyebrows raised in surprise, but she had no objections to the music. Nothing else had helped her learn to use the sling ring—might as well try something new.

Letting the music wash away any stray thoughts that might distract her, Alice made yet another circle in the air, trying to focus on the invisible folds in space and time that the doctor assured her were all around her. An orange spark erupted out of nothing, following the path of her hand, and Alice was so shocked that she jumped, breaking the connection and extinguishing the spark.

“I… I… I made a spark!” she exclaimed, glancing over to where Doctor Strange eyed her approvingly.

“Good! Now let's see if you can do it again.”

\---

“Mom! Have you seen my ring?” Alice yelled, raising her voice so her mother could hear her from the living room as she rummaged through her dresser.

“No. Which ring? What does it look like?” Kathy yelled back.

Alice pulled a lump of sweaters out of the dresser and ran her fingers around the edges of the drawer.

“It’s my engagement ring—you know, the one with the diamonds that look like leaves?”

Kathy appeared in the bedroom door frame.

“I’m sorry, honey, I haven’t seen it. When was the last time you had it?”

Alice sat down on the carpet in dejection, legs crossed, shoulders slumped, and surrounded by clothing.

“I don’t know, probably when we went to the opera last month. But I thought I put it back in my jewelry box.”

“Well I’ll keep an eye out for it,” Kathy said. “What do you need it for?”

With a sigh, Alice admitted defeated and gathered up the clothing around her to shove back into the dresser.

“I’m going on a date tonight—with my coworker’s cousin Oscar, you know?” Alice said.

Kathy’s face split into a broad grin.

“Oh, that cute artist you told me about? That’s so exciting! What are you going to do?”

“He’s taking me dancing,” Alice said, smiling only slightly nervously. Dancing was exactly the sort of thing Alice loved, but only felt confident enough to do when peer-pressured by friends.

“That sounds fun!” Kathy said.

Alice agreed. She was genuinely excited about the date, and counted herself lucky that Oscar was persistent enough to ask her out again after weeks of radio silence on her end. She remembered that she had been hesitant to go out with him again, but she chalked that up to nerves at the prospect of dating again after so long. She liked Oscar—he was sweet, interesting, and cute—why shouldn’t she go out with him? And on top of all that, it couldn’t hurt to signal to Loki that he didn’t need to worry about her schoolgirl crush any more.

Glancing at her phone, Alice grimaced at the time. Oscar was supposed to pick her up in fifteen minutes. She sighed, letting the tension in her shoulders evaporate and deflate.

“Well, I guess I don’t have time to look for it anymore. I’m sure it will turn up eventually…” Alice said.

She was a little more concerned than she let on—few possessions were more precious to her than her engagement ring—but she tried not to let it show. There wasn’t anything she could do about it now, and she wanted to have a nice evening.

She shoved the rest of her clothes back into the dresser and stood, running to the bathroom to do her makeup. Almost exactly fifteen minutes later, she finished her makeup and a knock sounded from the living room.

Alice darted to the front door, calling out as she left.

“Bye Mom, Bye Michael! I’ll be back in a few hours!”

\---

The club was dark, sweaty, and loud, and everywhere Alice turned was another girl a decade younger than her draped in a skimpy clubbing outfit.

Oscar led her through the crowd towards the bar, getting the bartender’s attention and ordering two drinks once they got there. Oscar handed her a cocktail, noticing her discomfort as she accepted the proffered drink.

“Not really the clubbing type?” he asked in her ear.

“No,” Alice admitted, leaning close so he could hear her over the pounding beat, “Not even in college.”

“Don’t worry, we’re here for the bachata class that starts in ten minutes. The regular clubbing crowd usually clears out by then,” Oscar said.

Alice flushed a little at being caught in her insecurity, but she couldn’t help but feel grateful that the class would start soon.

“I’m excited to learn,” she said after taking a sip of her drink. “I’ve never done bachata before.”

Oscar grinned back at her.

“I think you’ll really like it.”

“What’s the difference between bachata and merengue or salsa?” Alice asked.

“Well, you could say it’s pretty similar in some respects, but it has its own basic steps, and the kind of music you dance bachata to is distinctive. Also, bachata is a Dominican dance,” Oscar explained.

“You’re not Dominican though, right? Esther always said…” Alice trailed off, not wanting the question to come out wrong.

Always good-natured, Oscar laughed.

“You’re right, we’re Filipino, not Dominican. But you know, anyone can dance bachata. Honestly,” he said, scratching the back of his neck a little sheepishly, “my ex is the one who got me into it initially. But you know, I’m a big believer in not letting exes ruin something you enjoy.”

“I can get behind that,” Alice said with a grin.

True to Oscar’s word, by the time Alice finished her drink, the crowds had thinned out and the lights in the room brightened significantly. A curvaceous woman in skin-tight jeans and strappy heels, along with a man with buzzed hair and a bright button-up shirt, appeared at the head of the room. Alice’s suspicions that they were the instructors were confirmed as they got the remaining club-goers’ attention and began the class.

Oscar and Alice found a spot on the dance floor and followed along with the instructors’ movements as they taught the basic steps. To Alice the basic moves were like stepping back and forth on each foot, but on the fourth step tapping your foot instead of stepping. It was very simple, but somehow she still found ways to trip over her feet. Thankfully, Oscar was a very patient and sympathetic teacher, and by the end of the lesson Alice could manage the basic step, two different holds, and even a couple of turns.

Once the lesson was over, the instructors turned up the music, dimmed the lights, and set their students loose on the dance floor.

For a moment Alice wasn’t quite sure what to do with herself, feeling lost without the teachers’ instructions, but Oscar didn’t let her flounder for long. He grabbed her hand and pulled her confidently towards the middle of the dance floor, and aided by his subtle leading steps she quickly fell into the motions she had only just learned.

Initially, they had only stepped back and forth, staying mostly in the same place, but as Alice’s confidence grew, Oscar guided her to move forwards and backwards with each step. He lifted his hand and Alice spun under it, feeling a girlish thrill at the twirl.

They danced for hours, Alice growing increasingly comfortable and confident both on her feet and with her date. At some point in the night, Oscar pulled Alice into the close hold, shifting from holding hands between them to Oscar’s arm on her back and her hand on his shoulder. Though they had chatted and laughed together throughout the night, as the music shifted to a new song Oscar pulled her closer and they fell silent. Though Alice couldn’t understand the lyrics, the singer’s voice was smooth and sorrowful, and his words touched Alice in that part of her that she knew all humans had in common.

_Y la lluvia cae tan fuerte en mi ventana y se evapora como gotas de tu amor/ Y las luces de los autos brillan como las estrellas en el cielo del dolor/ El camino va pasando y yo voy acelerando como quien busca el amor/ Yo te busco, como un loco_

“I really like you,” Oscar said in Alice’s ear, and Alice smiled into his shoulder.

“I think you’re pretty great, too,” she said.

\---

Alice was glowing when Oscar dropped her off at home, and Kathy noticed right away.

“Looks like someone had a good night,” Kathy said, looking up from her computer at the kitchen table.

“Yeah, I can see that you had a great night writing lesson plans,” Alice responded with a smirk.

Alice dodged the pen Kathy threw at her.

“You knew what I meant!” Kathy said, “You really must have had a good time. You're only ever snarky like this when you're really happy.”

Alice laughed, conceding her mother's point.

“Yeah, it was really fun. We danced bachata and he's a really good dancer.”

“That _does_ sound fun,” Kathy said, getting to her feet and walking into the living room. “How does the dance go? Why don't you show me?”

Alice opened her computer on the desk and found a bachata playlist, then moved back to Kathy, taking both of her mother's hands in the basic hold.

“It's actually really simple. Just step, step, step, tap. Step, step, step, tap.”

They danced, the tropical rhythm emanating from the computer speakers making the steps feel natural and instinctual. They laughed at each little misstep and trod-upon toe, but Kathy made surprisingly few mistakes.

“Mom, you're pretty good at this! It took me a lot longer to get a hang of the basics,” Alice said.

“Of course I'm a natural! I used to go dancing all the time in my younger years. That's actually how I met your father,” Kathy said.

“Ugh, don't ruin it for me,” she responded with a grimace.

Kathy tsk tsked.

“Come on, Alice, I taught you better than to let a man ruin anything.”

Alice laughed again, the humor wiping away her frown.

“Fair point.”

“What is this unholy din?” an imperious voice interrupted from the hallway.

Alice looked up from her feet to find Loki standing in the hallway gazing down his nose at the dancing mother-and-daughter duo.

“Alice is just showing me what she learned on her date,” Kathy responded, but her explanation only seemed to sour his mood further.

“So she's taking her date activities home with her now? Pretty soon she'll be taking the dates home too.”

“Excuse me?” Alice said, letting go of Kathy's hands and standing up to Loki, outrage evident in her voice.

He might be her closest, most trusted ally, but that didn't mean he couldn't still be a total dick sometimes.

Loki seemed to recognize that he had crossed a line, and he tipped his chin down in a minor gesture of contrition, his hands fisted at his side.

“I, um. Never mind. Can you please simply limit the ruckus? I'm trying to sleep,” Loki said.

Kathy crossed her arms, eyeing Loki in amusement.

“I think Michael is just feeling left out.”

She walked up to Loki and grabbed his arm, marching him to Alice with a high school teacher's signature mischievous glint in her eye.

“I have more lesson planning to do,” Kathy said, depositing Loki in front of Alice and heading to the kitchen to collect her laptop. She grabbed her things and headed down the hall, waving back at Alice without looking back.

“I’ll be in your room if you need anything.”

When Alice turned her attention back to Loki, to her surprise he was still standing in front of her, surly and long-suffering, but present.

“Um, do you want to learn?” she asked him, not really expecting him to say yes.

“Despite your mother’s assertions, I didn’t come here to beg for a dance partner.”

Alice rolled her eyes and stepped backwards.

“Fine. It’s not a big deal, it’s just a little fun. Do they not dance in Asgard?” Alice asked.

Loki’s gaze remained fixed on Alice, the intensity of his focus a little disconcerting. He took a step towards her, and Alice grew annoyed at the mixed messages she was receiving. She thought he _didn’t_ want to dance.

“We do, but our dances tend to be more martial. We don’t have dances that are quite so… sensual.”

“Well maybe you should give it a try some time. It might help you loosen up a little.” Alice snapped, taking a step back to put some distance between them.

“I’m plenty loose, I’ll have you know-” Loki said, dogging her retreat.

“-Look, do you want to learn or not?” Alice interrupted, ceasing her retreat and leaning into his personal space.

Loki pulled up short and made a sour face, but didn’t turn away from her.

“It... might be somewhat amusing,” he admitted grudgingly.

“Great. Now that we’ve got your pride out of the way, hold your hands out like this,” Alice said, demonstrating the first hold.

Loki obediently extended his hands, and Alice grasped them. Loki’s arms were fully extended, holding her as far away from him as possible. She tugged on his hands, pulling him closer.

“Come closer, and follow my steps.”

Loki picked on the basic steps fairly quickly, following along easily with the bachata music still playing in the background.

“You’re a fast learner,” Alice said, pleased at how easy it was becoming to forget the steps and enjoy the music.

“I have lived over a thousand years, Alice. Do you think learning a simple dance would be a challenge for me?”

Alice rolled her eyes again and pulled away from him to turn up the music (she’d rather listen to that than indulge his bloated ego), then returned to her partner, who seemed relieved that she hadn’t simply abandoned him.

A new song started on the playlist, and Alice recognized it as one she had danced to with Oscar. A soft smile rose to her lips as she recalled how good it had felt to talk with him, to move with him.

Loki grimaced.

“Are all of these songs so grossly sentimentally?” He asked.

Alice blinked up at him, pulled out of the music for a moment.

“You can understand the words? It's not in English.”

He quirked an eyebrow at her.

“Through the Allspeak I can understand any language in the nine realms. Do you honestly believe people in Asgard learn _English_?” he asked, his tone dipping into disdain near the end.

Alice fell silent, embarrassed by the silly question she had asked. Soon, however, her embarrassment was replaced with curiosity.

“So… what is he saying then? If you just repeat it to me I'll be able to understand, right?”

Loki nodded, seeming impressed at her quick understanding of the Allspeak. He closed his eyes in concentration, and despite his lack of vision, his feet continued moving with complete confidence.

“ _The rain falls hard on my windshield and evaporates like drops of your love/ The lights of the cars shine like stars in a sky of pain/ The road is passing by and I’m speeding up as one who searches for love/ I’m searching for you like a madman._ ”

Alice felt the heat rising in her cheeks at the mawkish nature of the lyrics. It was much easier to enjoy the music unselfconsciously when she couldn’t understand the words.

She chanced a glance upwards at Loki, who returned her gaze with his inscrutable eyes. He had ceased speaking, although the singer continued on. He swallowed.

“...It continues on in roughly that vein,” he said.

Alice lowered her gaze and drew nearer to Loki, partly because she enjoyed his proximity, but mostly so she wouldn’t have to look into his face. Picking up on her cue, he pulled her further into him, shifting his hold to the close hold Oscar had showed her before—two hands clasped, his other hand on her back, just under her shoulder blade, hers on his shoulder.

Feelings both familiar and to-be-avoided bubbled up in Alice’s chest. She wasn’t supposed to enjoy his hand on her back, she wasn’t supposed to notice how delightfully tall he was, she wasn’t supposed to indulge in the ridiculous fantasy that she alone could fix all of the broken things inside of him.

Loki lifted his arm to spin Alice, and somehow the maneuver ended with her hand at the back of his neck, her fingers sinking through the surprisingly-soft hair to taste the cool skin beneath. She savored the sensation just a moment longer than she probably should have, her breath shortening, then she moved her hand back to the regular hold. Loki looked down at her with a smirk that was both arrogant and enticing.

Shoving her inadvisable attraction to the side, Alice realized what was strange about Loki pulling her into the close hold and guiding her through a complex turn.

“Loki, I never taught you this hold, or that spin. Were you following me on my date?” Alice asked.

Loki didn’t even have the decency to look embarrassed.

“I needed to ensure your safety. I have many devious enemies, after all,” he said.

A vivid picture of Oscar holding her close while Loki lurked somewhere in the background came to Alice's mind, and her stomach clenched.

“That's… I appreciate the sentiment but that's not OK. Please don't follow me anymore unless you have a legitimate reason to believe I am in imminent danger.”

“You'll never know if I decide to follow you or not. What difference does it make?” he said with an insufferable smirk.

Alice narrowed her eyes at him, her annoyance returning.

“I'm asking you to respect my privacy and not follow me. As a trusted friend, I expect you listen to me.”

The general creepiness of Loki’s behavior struck her hard initially, but was quickly eclipsed by the unconditional trust she had in him. Even so, she still wanted the behavior to stop. Alice knew she liked Oscar and she knew she wouldn't be able to get far with him while Loki and all the complicated feelings surrounding him haunted her every move. Alice looked calmly into Loki’s eyes, expression serious and sincere, and hoped that he would understand her wishes.

Loki’s mischievous expression sobered, and he nodded.

“Very well. I will no longer follow you unless I feel it is necessary,” he said.

Alice nodded in gratitude, believing completely that his word was good. They both fell silent, and Alice let herself enjoy the moment, taking pleasure both in his nearness and in the simple joy of moving in concert with another being. She wondered what kind of dances were popular in Asgard, wondered what Loki’s friends and family would think if they could see him dancing now. Thoughts of Loki’s family reminded her of something important she’d wanted to bring up to Loki when she got the chance.

“Oh, yes, I wanted to tell you,” Alice said, looking up to catch Loki’s attention. He raised an eyebrow at her. “I was talking to Doctor Strange earlier today, and he told me that The Avengers brought everyone Thanos killed back by merging with some kind of… alternate dimension in which those people had never died in the first place.”

Loki look up, processing the new information for a moment, then nodded.

“I suspected as much, but it is good to hear my hypotheses confirmed.”

“...That’s not all,” Alice said, taking a big breath before continuing. “He said that they originally only wanted to merge with dimensions in which those who disappeared during The Snap were alive, since those dimensions would be closer to ours and less dangerous to merge. Doctor Strange said that Thor insisted that they merge with a dimension in which you were alive. The Avengers argued with him, told him it would be more dangerous, but he refused to help unless you would be saved.”

As soon as Alice mentioned his brother, Loki’s features froze and his muscles tensed. His pale features lost whatever color they had, and his mouth hardened to a firm line. Alice didn’t have any siblings, so she knew there was much she couldn’t understand about their dynamic, but it still baffled her how news of such brotherly love could be upsetting.

“Loki? Are you OK? I thought you would like to know…” Alice began with some hesitation.

His feet stopped moving, and he gradually withdrew his arms from around her, expression stone-faced.

“I am well,” he said evenly, extricating himself from her completely and turning towards the hallway. He made it several steps before pausing and turning his head back towards Alice. “Thank you for telling me,” he said.

Alice bit her lip as she watched him go, the passionate music still playing in the background, and wondered if perhaps she had done something wrong.


	13. Chapter 13

Following a pattern of behavior Alice was becoming all too familiar with, Loki went about life the following day acknowledging absolutely nothing. He lived and breathed as if they hadn’t danced together, as if she hadn’t caught him following her on her dates, as if he hadn’t learned that his brother was _willing to risk the fate of the universe to save him_. No, the next day Loki slept in like normal, lay about the house like normal, and shamelessly leeched off of Alice for food without lifting a finger to help like normal.

In all fairness to the God of Mischief, he actually wasn’t normally that leech-like. He usually found small but meaningful ways to help around the house—things that would lighten Alice’s load without degrading him _too_ much. It was only when he was avoiding her—like now—that he became truly useless.

It was maddening, and multiple times Alice planned to confront him about his frustrating habit of withdrawing, but he managed to ensure that Kathy was always around whenever she wanted to attempt it. He knew, Alice was sure, that much of what she wanted to say to him couldn’t be said in front of her mother.

After three days of only showing his face when food was already on the dinner table, it was Kathy who finally laid down the law.

Loki took his plate from the far end of the table and silently loaded it with potatoes and casserole, his focus solely on the food. He turned from the table without greeting either Alice or Kathy, and made as if to go to his room, but before he could make his escape, Kathy stood from her chair and slammed her hands on the table

“Oh no you don’t,” she said, her voice heavy with maternal warning.

Loki froze, and Alice wondered if he’d heard similar words from his own mother.

“You have been creeping around here like a free-loading punk for days, and I won’t have it anymore. If you won’t acknowledge your host’s existence, you don’t eat” Kathy said with finality.

She marched over to Loki and grabbed his plate from him, jerking it from his hands as he gaped after her.

Alice was concerned that Loki might react poorly to such aggressive treatment, but her worry was eclipsed by satisfaction at finally seeing Loki get what was coming to him. Thankfully, Loki’s only reaction was befuddlement, and he gawked at Kathy like he couldn’t comprehend a creature that would dare snatch his food away from him.

“Well?” Kathy said after Loki failed to respond, tapping her foot.

Loki blinked at her, then turned his head towards Alice.

“Thank you for the food, Alice,” he said slowly and calmly, then he unhurriedly reached for his plate, taking it from Kathy’s reluctant hands.

“I’ll be returning to my chambers now, good evening,” he said with a little bow.

Then he turned and walked away from them, every inch the refined gentleman.

Kathy folded her arms and grimaced, turning to Kathy.

“‘I’ll be returning to my chambers’?” Kathy parrotted. “He says the damndest things sometimes, you know?”

Alice shrugged. She knew how strange Loki could come off at times, his image vacillating between the extremes of suave con man and Renaissance Faire escapee, and she couldn’t really explain why it didn’t bother her. Kathy probably wouldn’t be able to fully understand without knowing the bond of trust that Alice and Loki shared. His behavior also made a lot more sense once she knew that he was the thousand-year-old God of Mischief, but of course she couldn’t tell Kathy _that_.

Kathy opened her mouth to speak, then swallowed her words, appearing to think better of it. She shook her head ruefully.

“Well, maybe we can talk about it during our day out tomorrow,” she said, smiling at Alice.

Alice walked over to where her mother stood by the counter, wrapping her arms around her in a warm hug.

“I’m really excited for tomorrow. Although it sucks that you’re leaving so soon,” she said, her words muffled by her mother’s sweater.

Kathy patted Alice on the head.

“It’s alright, we’ll see each other for Thanksgiving. You’re planning on coming, right?” Kathy said.

Alice nodded into Kathy’s chest, then released her. As they stepped away from each other, Kathy’s eye caught on the picture frames on the kitchen counter. She moved around Alice and picked up one of the photos—the one of Alice and Andy on their wedding day, Alice’s favorite. Andy was making a goofy face while Alice hung off of him, her arms around his neck, wearing a grin the sincerity and joy of which Alice was not sure she was still capable.

“He really was such a sweety, wasn’t he?” Kathy said with obvious fondness.

Alice smiled softly.

“Yeah, he really was.”

Kathy put the picture frame back on the counter.

“I don’t think I have this picture…” Kathy said.

“Meagan took that picture, not the wedding photographer. She gave it to me as a wedding gift a couple of months after we got married, so I only have the one copy.”

Kathy pulled Alice to her in a side-hug.

“You should scan it and send me a copy. I need some more of you to tide me over until Thanksgiving,” she said.

Alice twisted around and hugged her mother with both arms, squeezing tight. She frowned, dramatically sticking out her lower lip even though Kathy couldn’t see her expression.

“Are you sure you have to leave on Friday? It seems like you only just arrived,” Alice said.

Kathy squeezed her back.

“I know, I know. I wish I could stay, but those snotty teenagers aren’t going to teach themselves!”

Alice pulled away a little and looked into Kathy’s eyes.

“Tomorrow, we are going to have the _best day ever_ ,” she said in all seriousness.

Kathy returned her gaze with equal solemnity.

“Let’s do it,” she said.

\---

Alice was determined to make Kathy’s last full day in New York a memorable one. After thorough interrogation, she’d determined which NYC must-do’s Kathy most wanted to experience but had not yet gotten around to, and Alice formulated a plan. As much as she cared about Loki, she wanted this day to be just for her and her mother, so she’d handed him twenty dollars and a takeout menu and left him to his own devices for the day.

They got cronuts in the morning, then went straight to the observation deck of the World Trade Center. Stomachs still heavy with cronut, they slogged their way up to the pedestal of the Statue of Liberty and took many photos, lamenting that they hadn’t bought tickets early enough to be able to hike to the crown.

For lunch, they had Alice’s favorite neighborhood pizza slice, which Kathy agreed was the best pizza she’d ever had once you soaked up some grease with your napkin and dumped on a generous amount of red pepper flakes. They attempted (in vain) to walk off the fatty food in Central Park, and Kathy gushed repeatedly about how lovely it was to have so much green in the middle of the city. In the evening they saw a revival of Hello Dolly! on Broadway, and after the show they capped off their epic day with gyro platters from The Halal Guys. It was a much more expensive day out than Alice usually went for, but as she saw the white sauce dripping down her mother’s chin, she did not doubt that it was worth it.

“Mom, I’m so glad I could spend the day with you,” she said in between bites of sauce-smothered rice.

“Me too, honey. What a lovely way to end my visit,” Kathy said.

Alice smiled before taking another big bite of meat. They ate their meal in comfortable silence for a minute, then Kathy turned to Alice, putting a hand on her knee.

“Um, before I leave… You know I’ve always tried to respect your decisions and stay out of our personal life, but I hope you don’t mind if I share some… observations from my visit.”

Alice bit her lip, her stomach flipping with apprehension.

“Of course not, Mom,” she said, fighting her misgivings.

“It’s about Michael. I am _so proud_ of the generous, loving person you are, and he honestly seems like a smart, funny, reasonably good man. I just worry that him living in your spare room might be holding you back. You’re unusually attached to someone you didn’t know several months ago, and you know, you’re not in a relationship with him and he doesn’t have a job…”

Kathy’s hands twisted around each other nervously, and Alice’s gut clenched at the realization that even just bringing up her concerns was making her mother anxious. Alice wasn’t the kind of daughter Kathy had to tip-toe around, was she?

“I… I get it,” Alice said, not sure what to say herself but feeling like she had to say something. “That makes sense.”

Kathy looked up from her hands and met Alice’s eyes with an almost painfully earnest gaze.

“Maybe you could help him find a different apartment, or a job? Just set some boundaries, you know? I know he really needed your help before, but he seems to be doing a lot better now, and he’s a grown man with skills.”

Alice nodded her head slowly as Kathy spoke. Something within her pushed back against even the idea of Loki moving out, but the Kathy’s logic was undeniable, and more than her logic, Kathy’s clear love and concern for Alice rendered her unable to refuse.

On top of that, while the money from the Avengers was certainly nice, Alice didn’t need it. She’d already received $350,000, which would easily pay for a down payment on a house. She’d even be able to buy a house outright—a nice one, too—if she moved out of state. She honestly didn’t even know what she would do with any more. Plus, no amount of money was worth worrying her mother.

“I’ll talk to him about it, I promise. I… think you’re right. It could be hard to make friends, hard to date, hard to… move on if Michael is still staying with me,” Alice said, bile rising up in her throat at the very thought of Loki leaving her life.

Alice swallowed it down and pushed onward. Him moving to a different apartment didn’t necessarily have to mean her leaving his life. He could find a place nearby. He could even find a place in her same building, possibly. She wouldn’t abandon him—never. She could find a way to make both her mom and Loki happy.

“I’ll talk to him. I’ll talk to him once you leave,” she said firmly.

\---

The next day found Alice escorting her mother to the airport, dragging Kathy’s heavy rolling suitcase up and down narrow escalators and through the subway labyrinth. She helped Kathy check in her bags, then they parted outside of security, Kathy gathering her daughter up one more time before returning to the west coast.

“I love you honey. Be strong,” Kathy said into Alice’s ear before pulling away. It was the thing Kathy always said before she left, ever since Andy died.

“I will,” Alice said before Kathy was out of earshot. “And I’ll talk to him, like you said!” she called after her.

The whole subway ride home Alice sat quietly, hands folded in her lap, and contemplated exactly what she was going to say to Loki and how. In the end he saved her much of the trouble. When she got home he was already waiting for her, seated in his usual chair, but wearing the green and gold armor she’d only ever seen him in once before.

“Welcome back,” he said as Alice took a seat across from him, eyeing him cautiously.

“Why are you wearing that?” Alice asked, though as soon as she’d caught sight of him something in her had known what was coming.

Loki shrugged.

“Well with your mother gone I don’t have to pretend any more. Neither do you.”

If there was anything Alice didn’t do, it was pretend. The very suggestion left her feeling defensive and worried.

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve known you’ve wanted me gone for a while now, Alice. Let’s neither of us lie to ourselves,” Loki said, in that distinctive tone of voice that was both reasonable and caustic.

“I don’t… It’s not…”

The objections stuck in Alice’s throat as she tried to voice them and realized at the same time that she had come home with the express purpose of asking Loki to move out. But it wasn’t as if she _wanted_ to, she just knew it was for the best. How did he always do this? Talk her in circles until she didn’t know which way was up?

Loki raised a hand, ceasing her sputtering.

“Worry not, I also feel it is time for me to move on,” he said.

Alice sank back into the cushions of the couch. She should feel relieved that there was no need to convince Loki to move out, since that had been her aim in the first place, but instead she just felt empty. She considered for a moment what it would be like to have the apartment to herself, and her mind caught on a particularly distressing thought. She leaned forward and looked Loki in the eye.

“We will still see each other, right? Will you be nearby? Just because you don’t live here anymore doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.”

Loki lifted one eyebrow, shooting her an expression both incredulous and confused.

“Friends? Are we friends?” he asked, sounding genuinely curious to know the answer.

“Of course we are,” Alice said, feeling unexpectedly hurt. “What do you think it means to be friends?”

Loki shifted in his seat, his mouth twisting.

“I suppose so. I will… possibly see you again.”

“ _That_ doesn’t sound super reassuring,” Alice said.

“Well I thought _friends_ didn’t make promises they couldn’t keep,” Loki snapped.

“Why wouldn’t you be able to see me again?” Alice demanded.

Loki sighed and crossed his arms, sinking further into his chair.

“Knowing me hasn’t been particularly good for you,” Loki said. He raised a hand and started counting on his fingers, “A dangerous woman broke into your apartment, you were stabbed, your mother and pretty much all of your friends are worried about you—all of these things happened because of me. And that was with me trying my best to protect you.”

“That’s bullshit. ‘I’m never going to see you again for your own protection’? That’s straight out of some D-grade romance novel,” Alice scoffed.

“ _Romance novel_? What kind of story do you think this is?” Loki demanded, his expression growing angry. “I have killed people. I invaded your earth. Anyone who has ever cared about me I betrayed. What kind of ending do you think this story has for a person like me? Or anyone associated with me?”

Alice opened her mouth for an angry retort, but shut it when she realized she didn’t know what to say. She had no counterargument, no logical reason for him to stay. Everyone in her life wanted Loki to move out, Loki included, and still Alice’s instincts resisted. It was so strange.

Unable to form a coherent reason for Loki to stay, Alice’s distressed mind abruptly switched tactics.

“I thought you were worried about your enemies attacking me? What will I do if some freaky extraterrestrial monster shows up for me?” she said.

Loki shook his head.

“You have your Avenger friends for that. I know that leather-clad woman has your apartment under surveillance, and you have your wizard friend,” he said.

“You trust them with this? You never seemed to have much respect for their abilities before,” Alice said, knowing she was just being contrary.

“I never said that Dr. Strange is impotent,” Loki said, taking Alice aback. She hadn’t expected him to actually respond to her somewhat facetious argument. She’d also never heard him refer to any of the Avengers by their actual titles.

“What?” she said.

“Dr. Strange. He isn’t powerless. He has collected some remarkably powerful relics, like that pendant of his.”

“His pendant?” Alice asked, utterly confused by the right turn their conversation seemed to have taken.

“Yes. Pendant, necklace, amulet, talisman—whatever you’re calling it this century. He’s never told you about what it does?”

Brow furrowed, Alice folded her arms across her chests and looked to the side, casting her mind back to her teacher’s appearance. Now that she thought about it, he did often have a heavy, diamond-shaped pendant hanging from his neck. It was a rather outlandish-looking piece of jewelry, but everything about Dr. Strange was outlandish, so it was no wonder that she hadn’t paid it any particular attention before.

“No, he’s never said anything about it. I just assumed it was some kind of mystic monk thing,” she said eventually.

Loki shrugged his shoulders.

“Well, I suppose you’re right in a way. It’s a useful trinket I’ve seen several times before. It has the power to return objects to their former state—to turn back time in a localized space, as it were. Your cracked phone screen, for instance, could be completely restored with a simple gesture from that pendant of his,” he said.

Alice pulled the phone in question out of her pocket, careful not to catch any glass shards on the soft pads of her fingers. She imagined the phone regaining its post-unboxing sheen, and found the thought unavoidably appealing. Her focus shifted, and her fractured face gazed back at her from the cracked screen. She looked up from the phone back at Loki.

“What does this have to do with anything?”

Loki raised his eyebrows and crossed his legs.

“Not much, honestly. The point is that you should be fine in the good doctor’s hands, crippled though they are. He has plenty of tricks up his sleeve.”

Loki stood abruptly, brushing invisible dust from his coat and bowing smartly to Alice before she even had a chance to react.

“Well, I think that should be about it. I should take my leave now,” he said briskly.

Alice jumped to her feet, taking a half step towards him before stopping herself.

“You know you don’t have to, Loki,” Alice said, some unknown impulse telling her that it was of the utmost importance that he know this fact. “I would never, ever force you to leave.”

Loki fixed his gaze on her, something sad and pitying filling his blue eyes, and he nodded.

“I understand that. I am choosing to leave. I release you of any obligation you have to me,” he said.

As if he spoke magic words, the unnamed something in Alice’s chest that refused to accept his departure dissipated. She deflated, her mind confused at the missing something that had taken up residence in her consciousness for several months now.

“...Is there at least a way I can contact you?” she asked.

The question gave Loki pause, and he stopped to consider a moment before answering.

“No. That won’t be possible,” he said, meeting her eyes with a gaze both serious and gentle.

With the confused desperation now gone, Alice was now angry. She wanted to cry and scream, wanted to yell at him, wanted to demand explanations. But no, that was something her twenty-year-old self would have done. Through tragedy and loss, she had earned over a decade’s worth of maturity and experience since then, and she wasn’t about to throw that away now by acting like a child.

“Well. If you ever decide to let me know what you’re up to, you know where to find me,” she said.

Loki nodded at her, then took a step towards her, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Thank you, Alice. For everything.”

Alice nodded in return, swallowing a lump in her throat, and Loki took a step back, his body fading away in a green haze. In less than an instant he was gone, the impression of his body in the chair the only evidence left of his residence. Alice was certain that if she were to check his room, there would be nothing there.

\---

The following weeks passed slowly and painfully. It had taken so long for Alice to grow accustomed to another person’s presence in her home, and it seemed it would take just as long to get used to being alone again. Movies were much less fun to watch by herself, and everyday errands became a much more solemn affair. Alice had to adjust her recipes back to serving just one, and after the second weekend spent alone in her apartment, Alice realized just how much she had allowed Loki to become her entire social life.

The one exception to that was, of course, Oscar, but on that front Alice found herself similarly alone.

“Hey Oscar, um, I’m not sure if you got any of my previous messages, but if you don’t really want to talk to me anymore, I get the picture,” Alice said into the phone after the third time in a row reaching his answering machine. “If you change your mind, feel free to call me back.”

Their last date had gone so well, but Alice hadn’t been able to reach Oscar in weeks, and it was getting the point that she could no longer find any plausible reason for his absence other than disinterest. She’d asked Esther if she knew anything, but after some awkward hemming and hawing, Alice backed off. She knew she couldn’t put Esther in the uncomfortable situation of mediating between her friend and her cousin.

Jim and Carrie checked in every once in a while, but Carrie was pregnant, and they were busy with their own things. On top of that, Alice had never been that close to her in-laws, and she was worried it would feel disingenuous if she were to suddenly lean on them for all of her human interactions. Kathy still called, but she was busy with the start of the school year, and a call every once in a while didn’t seem to fill up all of Alice’s empty time. Nobody would ever claim that work as a nurse left Alice with an abundance of time, but without anyone to spend that time with, her off-work hours seemed to stretch out in front of her like the horizon over open water.

After Loki left, Alice had immediately informed Black Widow, who took the news surprisingly well.

“Well, we knew he probably wouldn’t stay there forever. You did well, I know there’s nothing you could do to keep him there if he’d made up his mind to leave,” she’d said over the phone after Alice filled her in.

Black Widow assured Alice that they would continue to keep tabs on her apartment, just in case, for at least a while. She also generously extended Alice’s contract by two months, even though Loki was gone.

“This is a well-deserved bonus for putting up with that bastard,” she said to quell Alice’s protests.

The end of her part-time babysitting gig thankfully did not mark the end of her work with Dr. Strange, though, and her weekly lessons with the doctor ended up being her main source of human interaction outside of work. With nothing else to focus her energies on, her progress in the mystic arts accelerated. Soon she was skipping taking the subway to Bleecker Street and simply walking through a portal to get there. She was often tempted to take the glowing orange ring to get to work as well, but concerns about her coworkers’ questions if she were caught held her back. Dr. Strange had even begun teaching her how to summon whips of interdimensional energy that could be used as a weapon, but combat didn’t appeal to her as much as the other, more constructive uses of the mystic arts.

Dr. Strange became Alice’s lifeline. She couldn’t quite say that they were friends, per say, but as time passed they grew comfortable and easy in each others’ presence. The doctor was more similar to Alice than she had initially realized. He was practical, straightforward, and no-nonsense, and Alice found his teaching-style well-suited to her personality. They worked well together, and over time she felt comfortable telling him more about her life, as he told her more about his. She hadn’t met anybody who had encountered the same level of tragedy that she had before, and it was comforting, to talk with someone who understood. At some point over the course of their lessons, he became _Stephen_ and not _Doctor_.

With the help of her training to distract her, the months eventually passed by and Alice grew reasonably comfortable with her new living situation. She’d thought she had more-or-less recovered from Loki’s abrupt departure when one dim and sullen autumn day in late October proved her wrong.

The air had a crisp bite to it that Alice hadn’t expected at this point in the year, so her entire trek home from work was made in a light fleece not quite warm enough to keep her from shivering. The leaves on the trees were already turning, which Alice normally enjoyed, but the desperate flecks of orange amidst the grey sky and the grey concrete just seemed sad and futile today. Little kids skipped excitedly past her, chattering about their Halloween plans. Alice’s Halloween plans consisted of a double shift at the hospital to give some of her coworkers time with their kids. Halloween was a kid’s holiday, after all.

And then of course there was the date. October 20th. Ten years since her wedding day.

Dragging her feet with every step, Alice made her way up the stairwell and into her apartment, her mind dulled to the point that she didn’t even notice the way the door opened without her key. Once she stepped inside of the apartment, it took a moment for her to process what was wrong, although it was plain to see.

Her TV was gone. Her laptop was also gone. She’d wager the modest stack of cash she always left in her nightstand was gone, too. The place hadn’t been ransacked, exactly, but the cushions had been removed from the couch, and her desk had clearly been rifled through.

Alice surveyed all this with an empty sort of numbness, not quite believing the awful luck of getting burgled on the day of her wedding anniversary with her dead husband. The numbness stayed until it was shattered by a broken picture frame, in the corner by the hall.

Alice walked over to the glass-littered corner and found remnants of both the picture frame and a vase she kept on the counter, the broken glass glittering on top of the water-soaked carpet. Careful not to cut herself, she turned the frame around and gently prodded at the precious picture no longer protected in its vault. The wedding picture her friend had taken for her so long ago was cut up and soaked with water. It was ruined.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Alice recognized that though she hadn’t spoken to her in years, she could probably reach out to Meagan and ask for another copy of the photo. She might not have it any more, but there was a chance. But as she held the soggy picture in her hands, all she could think was that her husband was dead and he was never coming back, and now even pictures of him were leaving, too. He’d never take any more photos. All that Andy would ever put into the world was already in it, and these remnants of him were only going to keep on disappearing from here on out. There was never going to be any more of him.

Alice sat on the floor, heedless of the tiny splinters of glass she could feel entering her shins like little mosquito bites. She cradled the broken frame and picture in her hands and cried, ignoring the front door she’d left wide open to the outside world. Eventually, the tears stopped, not out of a cessation of feeling but out of sheer exhaustion. She shifted her legs a little, which had grown numb from holding her awkward kneel, and the splinters in her shins cried out for attention. The splinters felt exactly like the ones her cracked phone screen had given her fingers before she’d learned how to avoid them.

Alice’s head jerked up, an idea forming in her head that would not fix everything, but just might make life bearable. She grabbed her sling ring out of her pocket, where she always kept it in case of emergencies, and formed a shaky circle in the air. Taking off her fleece, she scooped the frame and the picture onto her jacket and wrapped it up in a little bundle before stepping through the portal.

She usually took the portal to the grand entrance of the Sanctum Sanctorum, just to be polite, but this time she went right to Stephen’s favorite study room. She was in luck, and he was already there when she arrived.

He started a little at her entrance, expression going from alarmed at the appearance of an intruder, to relief upon recognizing her, and back to alarm again at her distressed state.

“Alice! What’s wrong? Are you alright?” he asked, rising from his desk and moving towards her with long strides.

“Can you help me?” she asked, the tears somehow finding their way down her face again.

“Of course, please, tell me what’s wrong?”

Gingerly, Alice unwrapped the jacket, showing him the broken picture frame and photo. His brow creased in confusion.

“It’s a picture of my husband. I don’t have another copy. Can you fix it, please? Turn it back to how it was before?” she asked, forcing the words through her raw throat.

Stephen looked up from the broken frame, concern and trepidation evident in his eyes.

“I… I’m sorry that it broke, but that’s not the kind of thing to do lightly-”

“-Please! Please. It’s just a small thing, I know. I know I’m being ridiculous, but…” Alice wanted to wipe the tears from her eyes, but she couldn’t without letting go of the jacket.

“Please…” she whispered, “please. He’s disappearing.”

Stephen bit his lip, looking more uncertain than Alice had ever seen him before. Alice didn’t care why he was worried, didn’t care about whatever mystical best practices he might be breaking. She just knew that she was all alone, and asking for one picture back didn’t seem like too much to ask.

“Fine. Let’s do this quickly, though,” Stephen said, taking the jacket from Alice’s hands and moving it over to his desk, where he carefully transferred the broken pieces of the frame along with the ruined photo to the desktop.

Alice didn’t even have the energy to thank him, she just followed, anxiety building until she saw the photo whole again.

Stephen moved in front of the table, facing Alice’s broken heart, and held his hands out in front of the necklace that Alice knew would fix everything. He made several arcane gestures in front of the necklace, and a compartment that Alice never knew was there opened, revealing a glowing green stone in the center of the pendant—a pendant that Alice now realized was crafted in the shape of an eye.

The glow of the pendant was mesmerizing, and the power it emitted transfixing. As soon as she saw it, Alice realized that Loki had been lying. Whatever this was, it wasn’t some trinket that Loki had seen a couple of times before, even in his long lifetime. This was one-of-a-kind.

Stephen gestured towards the frame and picture, and as he moved his hands, Alice could see the pieces start to come together, each bit of glass and wood exploding in reverse back into its rightful place. Her eyes widened in wonder, but before the process was complete, a glimmer of green near Stephen—darker and duller than the light of the stone—caught her eye. Before she had time to shout, Loki appeared right next to the doctor. He pulled the pendant from Stephen’s neck, and with a quick slash of his dagger, sliced it free of its chain. The next instant, he was gone.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there, I’m back! Sorry for the delay, work has been frustrating and all that. I hope you enjoy this chapter. We’re coming down the home stretch!

Stephen stared at Alice in abject horror, his jaw slack in disbelief. Alice sputtered, not fully understanding what had just happened, but certain that the consequences could be more awful than she could imagine.

“I don’t- What-” Alice stammered, but before she could even complete a thought, she felt her own body start to phase away as well. She held up a hand in front of her face, and her eyes widened as the fingers began to disappear in a haze of green. She looked back up at Stephen, and his expression shifted from one of shock to one of betrayal.

“No, I didn’t do this!” Alice protested frantically, “I don’t even know what’s h-”

Before she could finish the sentence she was gone.

\---

The world resolved around her, and Alice found herself in the same luxurious penthouse Loki had taken her to months before. She whirled around frantically, quickly spotting Loki standing only a few feet away from her on the lush carpet. The pilfered pendant was no longer visible on his person, but Alice knew better than to think that he didn’t have it.

“What did you do?!” she yelled, feeling truly angry with him for the first time in their acquaintance. Something in her brain fought against the emotion, persuading her with whispers of dangerous words like _friend_ , _ally_ , and _trust_ , but for the first time her fury was strong enough to overpower these mysterious inhibitions.

Loki simply gazed back at her, his expression mostly vacant, and definitely not happy. His cool rigidity only served to piss Alice off more, and she surged towards him, pointing an accusatory finger in his face.

“Answer me, dammit!”

“I told you I had a plan. This was a part of that plan,” he said impassively.

“But you didn’t tell me what the plan was! Stephen is going to think- he’s going to think I-” Alice sputtered.

“He’s going to think you betrayed him. But you didn’t. You can’t be held responsible for any of the things you did to help me,” Loki said.

Alice felt her breaths coming out faster and faster, the force of her anger and confusion dragging the oxygen from her lungs.

“What are you _talking_ about? Of course they’re going to hold me responsible-”

“-I don’t have time for this, Alice,” Loki said, cutting her off. “Strange could locate us at any moment, and I need to give you something before I leave.”

Loki’s fingers wrapped around Alice’s outstretched wrist and pulled her hand towards him, his other hand producing an object that gleamed in the light, then placed it on her finger. When Alice’s vision focused on the item, her eyes widened in shock: on her left ring finger glinted her heretofore missing engagement ring.

She opened her mouth and looked at Loki, a thousand different responses ready to burst forth, but before any of them could form something else happened both inside and around her. As soon as the ring rested on her finger, a weight was lifted from her mind. It was like leaving the house on a bright summer day, and only realizing how dark it had been inside after being confronted by the brilliance of the noonday sun. It was like emerging from a dream that had felt utterly lifelike, only to look around at the real world and remember how poor an imitation all dreams are of reality. It was like standing on dry land after an extended period at sea, and only then realizing that the earth had been shifting underneath you your entire time aboard. Alice’s mind was completely free and independent for the first time in months—a veil had been lifted from her thoughts, and her mind exulted in the freedom and flexibility it had been deprived of for so long.

Once the exhilaration passed, horror swiftly took its place. The confidence and safety Alice had always felt around Loki vanished like morning mist, and all of her faith and trust in him no longer had any legs to stand on. She floundered, frightened and outraged and hurt all at once.

“What did you do…” she asked for the second time in as many minutes, only this time the query seemed to shame Loki. He returned her accusatory gaze with determination, but she could see his eyes twitching, could see him fighting the urge to look away.

She also noticed with surprise several small changes in Loki’s appearance. The skin around his eyes was wrinkled, and dark patches under his eyes lent him a haggard look. His clothing too was slightly less put-together and polished, the golden armor dingier than before, and the green cape faded and wrinkled.

“I enchanted this ring for you. When you wear it, none of my illusions will have any effect on you,” he said, his pale hands tensing at his sides, turning the skin at his knuckles an even ghostlier shade of white.

“So… so that means… Have I been under some kind of illusion this whole time? Was Natasha right all along?” Alice asked.

Loki swallowed, his eyes darting away from Alice briefly before returning. He took a deep breath and composed himself, donning his familiar air of confidence like a suit of armor.

“After I told you who I was, when you asked me to leave, I… influenced you. Using my powers.”

Alice emitted a sound of outrage at his confession, but before she had time to form words, Loki cut her off.

“-I wasn’t using any kind of _mind control_ , more like… persuasion. I made you more trusting, more receptive to me. I made you feel safe,” he said.

Loki then paused to let Alice respond, but now that she had been given the space, Alice didn’t quite know what to do with it. Anger and betrayal filled her chest like rapidly expanding steam, and tears pricked at her eyes as her chest rose and fell with rapid, heavy breaths. She was not fooled by his meaningless distinction between mind control and “influence.” Perhaps there was a difference in degrees, but either way her trust in him had been completely and utterly broken.

“How could you-? Actually, that’s a stupid question. You are a murderer,” Alice said, the spiteful part of her relishing his wince at her words. “You are a murderer, a selfish, power-hungry monster who doesn’t care about anything but his own ambitions. I don’t know why I am surprised—this is actually the most logical thing for you to do.”

The fists at Loki’s sides tightened and curled more with each incisive word. His jaw twitched, and his eyes hardened, but Alice wasn’t done yet.

“Actually, maybe I should be honored that you’ve used me like this. You yourself said that you’ve betrayed anyone who’s ever cared about you—I guess I now fall into that distinguished category,” Alice said, voice dripping with a level of disdain she had only summoned on a handful of occasions in her life.

Alice’s eyes followed Loki’s larynx up and down as he swallowed, and she imagined him ingesting the acid in her words. He hid it well, but she could see the hurt in his eyes. That was good. At least she mattered enough to be able to hurt him.

Swallowing the acid appeared to help Loki recover, because any hint of pain Alice had detected disappeared within moments, and his businesslike mask reappeared. Any vulnerability he had betrayed was replaced with an undercurrent of anger and discontent.

“I don’t have time to discuss this,” Loki said briskly. “I am sorry for what I did. That is why I gave you this ring, even though I knew it would make you hate me. I cannot undo what I did, but I want you to know that I did it for a reason. I want you to know that you matter to me, and that you deserve to know the truth.”

Loki closed his eyes and let out a puff of breath, apparently having accomplished what he meant to accomplish from this meeting. He opened his eyes again, and he looked much calmer, though no less dissatisfied.

“Please tell my brother that, too. That I did it for a reason, that I'm going to make things right—for us, and for our people” he said, his eyes communicating the farewell before both the and the room started to fade away around Alice.

“-Wait, but you haven’t-!”

“-Farewell, Alice Wakefield. You have my thanks.”

\---

Alice blinked and she was back in the Sanctum Sanctorum. Stephen paced over the Oriental rug anxiously, his arms gesticulating wildly at a tall, brawny man standing across the room from him. Natasha stood somewhere between them, as did a man Alice recognized as Tony Stark.

“Your _brother_ stole the Time Stone,” Stephen practically snarled.

“My brother? So Loki _is_ alive?” the brawny man who could be no one other than Thor responded.

“Why do you sound so surprised, Your Highness?” Stephen said, the title landing somewhere between honorific and epithet, “You refused to help us merge dimensions unless we included your wretched brother in the rescue, remember?”

“Yes, but it’s been over half a year since then, and still we had no news of him,” Thor said. “And now he reappears? Why now? Why here?”

“Thor, we’ve actually known about Loki for-” Natasha started to say.

“-Wait a second, the babysitter’s back,” Stark said, pointing an accusatory finger at Alice.

Stephen, Thor, Natasha, and Stark all turned towards Alice, and before she had a chance to react, Stephen had lassoed a pair of interdimensional whips around Alice’s wrists, pulling on them so Alice fell to the ground. Stark raised an arm towards Alice, a mechanical weapon forming around it as he gestured, Thor raised his hammer menacingly in her direction, and Natasha drew a gun from her thigh holster in the blink of an eye.

Alice gasped as she hit the ground, and had to fight every instinct within her to remain on the rug, as submissive and unthreatening as possible. The Avengers had no reason to believe she wasn’t in league with Loki, and she needed to keep things calm until everything could get sorted out.

“Where is the Time Stone,” Stephen said, his voice heavy with warning.

“That necklace?” Alice asked, looking up at him from where she lay on the ground, “I don’t know. I don’t know what it is or what Loki’s plans are.”

Stark continued to aim his arm-cannon directly at Alice.

“Then why did you help him trick the doctor? Why did you disappear with him, and why are you back?” Stark asked.

Alice stared down the glowing barrel of Iron Man’s arm, eyes wide.

“He was controlling me the whole time he lived with me, making me believe him and trust him. Then he left. I hadn’t heard from him in months, then today I came home and my apartment had been trashed. Something really important to me was broken, and I think Loki knew how I would react. He knew I would come here to ask Stephen for help, and when I did he came out of nowhere to steal the necklace,” she said.

“How are we supposed to believe you? Where did he take you after he stole the Time Stone?” Stark demanded, his features not softening in the least.

“He took me to this apartment that he stays at sometimes. He gave me this ring, and then he told me to tell Thor that he’s doing this for a reason, and that he’s trying to make things right.”

“-What ring?”

“-Make _what_ right?”

Stephen and Thor demanded simultaneously.

“It’s on my finger, if you’ll let me show you,” Alice said, jerking her head at her bound wrists.

Stephen eyed her suspiciously. He shifted to hold both of the whips in one hand, then moved towards her carefully, not letting her wrists go, until he could examine the ring on her finger with his free hand. He pulled it off to study it more closely and backed away from her, an action that irritated Alice despite her predicament.

“Woman, what purpose did my brother have?” Thor asked again while Stephen examined Alice’s ring.

“He didn’t tell me. I know he… he seemed to feel bad about some of the things he’d done. He didn’t want to go back to you until he’d done something else first—something that would fix his mistakes.”

“Fix his mistakes?” Stark scoffed. “If I know Reindeer Games then his idea of making things right probably involves world domination.”

“Man of Iron, you do not know my brother-”

“-What is this ring?” Stephen said, interrupting the nascent pointless argument.

“That’s my engagement ring. Loki stole it from me, enchanted it, then gave it back to me. He said that it allows me to see through his illusions,” Alice said. “After I put it on, I could see… I could see that he’d been manipulating me this entire time.”

Her back hurt terribly, and the reality of what had already happened to her, in addition to what these superhumans could do to her if they considered her a threat, was sinking in. Still, Alice tried to stay calm. She took in several deep breaths.

 _Stay calm, do what you need to do, don’t panic_ , she told herself. It was a simple but effective mantra she’d developed during several stints in the ER.

“I don’t believe it. Loki would never create a vulnerability for himself,” Thor said.

“It does appear to have some kind of neutralizing enchantment placed on it,” Stephen said as he turned the ring about in his fingers, eyeing it from every angle, “-Although I believe it was designed to only work on Alice. Why would Loki give you something like this?”

“I don’t know,” Alice said, feeling her control begin to slip into a frantic energy despite her calming mantra. “I don’t know, I haven’t seen him for _months_ , I didn’t even realize he’d been… he’d been _controlling_ me until just minutes ago.”

Alice’s eyes followed the ring Andy had given her so many years ago as Stephen slipped it into a pocket hidden beneath his robs. Her mind reeled, and she asked herself why Loki had given her the ring. He’d told her that it was because he felt sorry for what he’d done to her, but how could she trust that? Even when she’d still been under his spell, Alice had always recognized that whatever Loki was doing, he always always had an angle.

“I do not believe that my brother would expose himself to any kind of vulnerability like this ring without some specific purpose. This Alice woman must be a part of his designs,” Thor said.

“He told me he gave it to me because he felt guilty for what he’d done to me—for controlling me and manipulating me,” Alice said reluctantly, knowing how unlikely it all sounded.

“Sorry for manipulating you? That’s like The Hulk apologizing for Smashing!” Stark said.

Her interrogators fell silent, and she could sense the skepticism in the air. Finally, Natasha sighed and holstered her gun, then marched towards Alice, purpose in her step.

“Look, whatever is going on with the ring is less important than where Loki went with the Time Stone. Come here,” Natasha said, grabbing Alice by the arm and hauling her to her knees.

Natasha pulled a pair of handcuffs out of nowhere and maneuvered Alice’s hands behind her back, clicking the cuffs around her. Stephen released Alice from the orange whips, and Alice leaned back onto her feet, kneeling on the ground in front of the Avengers with her hands tied behind her back.

“Alice, I don’t know if you are helping Loki—knowingly or not—but you need to know that what Loki stole, the Time Stone, is incredibly powerful. Even if he didn’t have any bad intentions, Loki could literally endanger the entire universe if he isn’t careful with it, so we need to know what he’s going to do. If you want us to believe that you aren’t helping him, then please tell us whatever you know about what he has planned. Did he say anything to you in these past months that you’ve lived together? Did he say anything when he left?” Natasha said.

Alice closed her eyes, trying to mine her conversations with Loki for nuggets of meaning. She wished now more than ever for a more precise memory, but Alice had always been terrible at remembering details.

“I think… I know it might be hard to believe but I think he really did feel some guilt for what happened in the past—for the invasion, for the destruction of Asgard, for Thanos. He refused to see Thor until he did something else first, although he wouldn’t tell me what. He told me he was trying to change—trying not to hurt people any more,” she said haltingly, adding bits and pieces as the memories returned to her.

“Woman, you lived with Loki for months? Why did I not know of this?” Thor said, taking several steps towards Alice and waving a rather large hammer in her face.

“This isn’t the time to talk about this-” Natasha started to say, but Thor would not be distracted.

“It seems everyone knew that my brother was alive except me. Is this truly how the people of Earth treat their allies?” Thor said, his voice rising in frustration.

Tony retracted the arm cannon and turned towards the angry god, holding his hands out palm-down in a placating manner.

“Take a big breath there, Point Break,” Stark said.

“Thor, it is true that we found Loki several months ago, but you must understand how it was the safest decision for us to stay out of your relationship. Loki wasn’t behaving in a hostile manner, and he could have gone to you at any moment if he’d wanted to, and we thought it was best not to get involved in your family issues,” Natasha said in a calm but slightly accelerated voice.

“Oh, you thought it best? I can see now that we were never truly comrades, were we?” Thor said, advancing on Natasha in a way that truly should intimidate her more than it appeared to.

Stephen quickly stepped between the two.

“I understand that you’re upset, Thor, but we need to put that aside for now. We need to find your brother before he does something foolish and potentially world-ending.”

Thor huffed and grimaced, looking as if he had much more to say on the subject, then he paused. Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes and appeared to re-center himself.

“Fine. I will go along with this until we find him, but hear you me, once this is over I will have words for you,” Thor said, the “you” apparently referring to everyone else in the room.

Thor set his hammer on the ground and crossed his arms across his chest. Stark, Natasha, and Stephen visibly relaxed, and Stephen moved back towards them, pacing back and forth in contemplation.

“We have to focus on where he went—on what he’s planning to do,” Stephen said, and the others also fell into silent thought.

Alice joined them. She wasn’t sure exactly what was going on, and a small part of her still clung to an instinct to protect and shield Loki from harm, but it was abundantly clear that he needed to be found and stopped. Alice screwed her eyes shut and thought furiously, going over all of her interactions with Loki to try and piece together his master plan.

_I did it for a reason... I'm going to make things right—for us, and for our people._

What could he possibly “make right?” The people who’d died during The Snap had already been brought back, so it couldn’t be that. Perhaps he meant what he’d done to her, but that didn’t fit either. Loki seemed to think that giving Alice the ring more or less made them even, and Alice wasn’t self-centered enough to think that Loki’s schemes all revolved around her. She was just a simple, unimportant nurse whose path he’d happened to cross during a strange time in his long existence—she was no one of consequence.

What else had they discussed? What else might he see as his responsibility?

Alice remembered the pain in Loki’s eyes when she’d told him what Thor had done for him. She remembered his tortured relationship with his family, the anger and love and guilt gradually seeping through over the course of their cohabitation. She remembered the way Loki had refused to return to the Asgardians until he had accomplished something else first—something that would guarantee his acceptance.

Alice circled around these scraps of evidence over and over again, but got nowhere. Frustrated with her lack of progress, Alice’s thoughts turned instead towards Loki’s personality—what she had learned about who he really was over the months.

At first, Alice had thought of Loki as a damaged, broken man—one burdened with unspeakable tragedy, and weighed down by guilt and self-loathing. Eventually, he morphed into a man of superb self-confidence; someone who knew who he was and cared little for the opinion of others. Now, though the knew she still didn’t understand everything about him, she realized that he contained both of these beings inside of him. Loki was a strange cocktail of incredible self-assurance and intense self-hatred.

In light of this newly-constructed character profile, Loki’s strange reaction to learning of Thor’s sacrifice for him made much more sense. Loki was far too proud to return to his brother’s side if he felt himself to be in Thor’s debt. He wouldn’t be able to bear asking for forgiveness—for mercy or leniency. Loki would need to do something big, something so undeniably generous that the balance of power and debt between them would shift in his favor. He couldn’t return home until his acceptance by both his brother and his people was ensured, and Alice was growing more and more confident that whatever Loki was planning, it would be some kind of grand gesture that would buy the forgiveness of Thor and the people of Asgard.

Alice thought about the Time Stone, and how Loki had described its power.

_It has the power to return objects to their former state—to turn back time in a localized space, as it were._

All of a sudden, it clicked.

“Asgard,” she said.

Stark, Stephen, Natasha, and Thor all turned to where she knelt, handcuffed, on the ground.

“What? Loki couldn’t be there. It was destroyed,” Stephen said, his eyebrows knitted together.

“Exactly! Couldn’t that Time Stone thing be used to fix it? To bring it back to what it used to be?” Alice asked.

The assembled Avengers seemed skeptical, but the more Alice thought about it, the more certain she was of her theory. Stephen’s frown deepened.

“Any attempt at that large of a shift in the space-time continuum would be incredibly risky. Loki is an accomplished sorcerer—he would know that,” Stephen said.

“Why would Loki feel the need to do that? We evacuated Asgard together—we agreed that Asgard is a people, not a place,” Thor demanded.

Alice shuffled on her knees to face Thor more directly, craning her neck to look up into his fierce face.

“Loki… I know I haven’t known him long, but I think he was finally beginning to accept the weight of his crimes. Do you think he would be able to face you if he thought he had to rely on your mercy? On your forgiveness?” she said, choosing her words carefully.

Thor narrowed his eyes, looking down his nose at Alice in a way that was more considering than condescending. After a long moment, he nodded.

“There is wisdom to your words, woman,” he said.

“...my name is Alice,” Alice muttered under her breath, but he didn’t seem to notice.

Stephen turned to Thor, hand on his goatee’d chin.

“Thor, do you think that’s really what Loki is up to? If that is the case, even if he has good intentions he could endanger the structural integrity of our already-weakened dimension.”

Thor’s gaze shifted from Alice to Stephen, and he returned the doctor’s sober look.

“Loki is very confident in his abilities, and willing to take risks to get what he wants. If he truly wishes to restore Asgard, I believe he would be willing to risk it,” Thor said.

“So… Asgard,” Stark interjected. “I’m not fully convinced, but this is the only solid lead we have so far, and I guess beggars can’t be choosers. Isn’t it an empty corner of the galaxy now? If we tried to go there what’s to keep us from freezing like a popsicle in the vacuum of space?”

“Given some time, I can create a portal to the space where Asgard used to be,” Stephen responded. “I can also create a barrier around us that can maintain a habitable environment.”

“That’s all well and good, but what can we expect when we get there? We’ve been fooled by Loki’s illusions before. What if this is a trap?” Natasha said.

“Well that’s where Nurse Alice over here and her shiny little ring come in handy,” Stark said, gesturing over at Alice without his arm cannon.

“Doesn’t this seem a little too convenient? Like Loki wants us to bring her with us? Who's to say she’s not still under his control?” Natasha said.

“After examining her ring, I am fairly confident that Loki cannot control her while she’s wearing it,” Stephen said. “That said, her presence could still aid him in some other, unanticipated way.”

Kneeling on the rug in the Sanctum Sanctorum, hands handcuffed behind her back, Alice came across the astonishing realization that she wanted to go with The Avengers to Asgard. She, cautious, practical Alice, wanted to teleport into the vacuum of space to try and stop an unstable god from endangering all sentient life. Part of her motivation was born of the realization that she was in a position to potentially save many, many lives, but another part of it was Loki. Alice had never before abandoned a patient, and while Loki had ceased being her patient long ago, she still felt a powerful urge to save him—from himself, if need be.

“I know you don’t know if you can trust me or not, but I want to help,” Alice said, lifting her head up to look at Natasha. “If there’s anything I can do to help, I’ll do it.”

“Let us bring the handmaid,” Thor said. “Loki’s plan may be misguided, but it doesn’t seem to be malicious. I don’t believe he will try to use her against us.”

“Fine,” Natasha said flatly, “but she stays in the cuffs.”

Stephen clapped his hands. He walked over to Alice, pulling her ring out of his pocket as he strode.

“Great. Now that that’s sorted, I’ll prepare the teleportation and barrier spells,” he said as he awkwardly worked the ring onto Alice’s finger with her hands still cuffed, “Everyone be ready to leave in thirty minutes.”

“Will that be fast enough? Can’t Reindeer Games start using the stone right away?” Stark asked.

Stephen stood and faced the rest of the Avengers, his jaw tightening.

“We can only hope it will be fast enough,” he said.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m back! I really pushed to update a little sooner this time, so I hope y’all enjoy this new chapter. There’s a lot going on here, so I hope it was written clearly and in an interesting way.

“Alright, everybody ready?” Stephen asked from the middle of the circle he’d drawn on the floor of one of the larger basement rooms in the Sanctum Sanctorum.

Dr. Strange stood tall in the center of the musty room, surrounded by Tony Stark, Natasha, Thor, and Alice. They were all positioned within the boundaries of the lines Stephen had etched onto the hardwood floor in white chalk, the ghostly powder standing out in stark contrast to the dark floor. Alice’s heart raced a little as he finished his work, her nerves made worse by her the handcuffs still restraining her wrists and the knowledge that Stephen had taken her sling ring from her for some indefinite period of time.

“Ready as we’ll ever be, I suppose. It’s not like this is the first time I’ve been thrown into space. Not even the second time, really,” Stark said, his trademark flippancy failing to fully mask his nerves.

“Make sure to stay within this circle—only inside the lines will you have access to oxygen and protection from the cold,” Stephen said, his plain words serving as a solemn reminder that they were walking into a situation in which imminent death was a very clear and present possibility.

Without any further instruction, Stephen moved his hands in an intricate pattern, his wide sleeves trailing after his hands in a flowing dance, and the hardwood floor began to glow a vibrant, blinding orange.

The circle beneath their feet shot away from the ground, accelerating so fast that Alice wondered if she’d accidentally left her soul behind. For a moment or an eternity—Alice wasn’t sure which—they were surrounded by a blinding light. Time and space stretched and shrank, and though she couldn’t see anything around her, Alice’s gut told her that they had moved a very, very long distance. The light faded, and Alice’s breath caught as she took in her surroundings.

They still stood on a circular piece of hardwood flooring, but that circle of planks had been transposed onto an ancient, crumbling marble floor. At least, the floor appeared at first glance to be crumbling. Upon closer inspection, Alice realized the floor was actually slowly piecing itself back together, bits of rock and grit that floated about gradually coalescing and knitting the marble back together.

Alice looked about her and saw that the marble floor was a point of increasing order amidst an ocean of chaos. All around them, shattered chunks of rubble, wood, metal, and other debris drifted about in empty space. It was as if Alice was standing inside of an explosion happening very slowly, and in reverse. It was fascinating to observe, and even in its mostly-destroyed state, Alice could see that Asgard had been a land worthy of legend. Beyond the wreckage lay the endless expanse of the cosmos, with stars twinkling in a breathtaking void, occasionally interrupted by splashes of nebulaic color. Alice had never seen something so beautiful before in her entire existence.

“Interesting,” Alice distantly heard Stephen say at her side, “Loki appears to have already restored Asgard’s atmosphere. We should be able to safely leave the circle.”

“Brother!” Thor shouted, pulling Alice’s focus away from her stunning surroundings and towards an area not far from their transportation circle.

Loki stood on a fully-reconstructed dais several feet in front of a large golden throne, in what appeared to be the center of the gradually reorganizing tumult. He was wearing his black, gold, and green armor, and a glowing green something swirled about him, radiating power. He held both hands out towards two luminous discs of emerald magic, and as the intricate movements of his fingers manipulated the discs, somehow Alice could see the direct impact they were having on the environment around him. He was turning back time—stepping outside of the realm of mere mortals and transcending the laws of nature. The immense power that radiated from Loki’s being was almost painful to behold, and never before had Alice been more convinced that she was in the presence of a godly being.

Loki’s gaze, which had been focused on the green discs of power, flitted towards his brother, and a look of surprised briefly crossed his face. One hand ceased its manipulations of the discs and made several other sharp gestures. A translucent bronze barrier appeared around Loki, and his features hardened with determination.

“Don’t come any closer, Brother. For once I am going to fix something, and I demand this chance to make things right,” Loki said.

“Brother, don’t be foolish. Nobody asked you to do this!” Thor said as he continued his march towards Loki, heedless of the bronze barrier.

“-Thor, don’t!” Stephen said, but Thor had already already reached the barrier.

Thor barreled right into the barrier, only to be instantly repulsed and knocked back several feet.

“I have prepared long for this day, Brother,” Loki said while Thor nursed the burning welts that had risen up on his hands where he had touched the barrier, “do not think you can stop me.”

“Loki, usage of the Time Stone is dangerous! Turning back time for such a large area of space destabilizes our dimension and endangers the lives of every sentient being in the galaxy!” Stephen shouted.

“Do you doubt that I have researched and prepared for this? All of Asgard has been placed in one of your mirror dimensions, ensuring that anything that goes wrong will only affect me. And you, as well, as long as your remain here, which is why I must insist that you leave,” Loki said, returning his focus to his work turning back time for the stones and rubble of his shattered homeland.

“Would that really work, Strange?” Tony asked tightly.

“I… am unsure. In theory, yes, but Loki is attempting a change on such a massive scale… I still don’t think it is worth the risk,” Stephen responded.

“Is there any way you can figure out if it will work? Because if it will we need to get the hell out of Dodge and let Loki reap whatever it is he’s sowing right now,” Stark said.

“No!” Thor exclaimed, turning sharply back towards Stark. “Loki is not an acceptable loss!”

Stark rolled his eyes in exasperation.

“We’re all aware of that by now, Thor.”

“I am confident in my abilities, Thor,” Loki said, “but even if I fail, at least I will fail trying to do something right for once in my miserable existence. I demand you grant me this.”

A stricken look crossed Thor’s face for a moment, though it was quickly replaced by familiar brotherly anger and fear. Thor got to his feet and turned back towards Loki, staggering towards the bronze barrier once again.

“No, Brother. There are other things you can do for Asgard—this isn’t necessary. Just... just come back with me. Help me. We can work _together_ and make a difference. Your presence is worth far more to me than any structure of rock or stone,” Thor said, his voice breaking with emotion.

Alice saw that Thor wanted to say more, but he couldn’t truthfully say that Loki hadn’t made many grave and costly mistakes that had harmed both his people and his family. Unspoken, an understanding of what Thor couldn’t say passed between the brothers. Loki closed his eyes and swallowed, then shook his head once. Panic filled Thor’s expression.

“Brother please! I thought I had lost you forever, any plan that risks losing you again is _not worth it_ ,” he pleaded.

“I will succeed,” Loki said, “and you and all of Asgard and all of the Nine Realms will see what I have done for our people.”

“What do you think, Dr. Strange? Are we safe to leave or could this still go sideways?” Natasha asked.

Stephen shook his head.

“No, it’s too risky. We need to stop him.”

“Then how do we get through that barrier of his? It fried Thor’s arm, so I doubt Tony or I could get through without at least losing a limb,” Natasha said.

“I’m not sure. It does appear to be a very powerful barrier, and it might take awhile for me to figure out how to get around it,” Stephen said.

The easiest, most obvious solution was to get Loki himself to remove the barrier, but Alice wasn’t sure if that would be possible. He had made up his mind, and once he settled on a course of action, Loki didn’t like to be dissuaded from it. Part of Alice wanted to say something, to remind Loki that there were people who would care if he was gone, that she was one of those people, but she shied away from it. Loki’s problems went much deeper than their several-month-long relationship, and Alice knew the person he really needed to speak to was Thor. In the back of her mind, Alice also doubted that Loki cared enough about her for her words to matter.

“Loki-” Thor said, evidently starting anew his attempts to persuade his brother. Before he could complete his sentence, a deafening crack sounded across the expanse of sifting debris.

Alice instinctively ducked down, looking wildly around her for the source of the sound. Her eyes widened in horror as she saw what looked like a long crack in the mirror of her vision and she recognized it for what it was: a massive fissure in the fabric of space and time. Thor, Stephen, Stark, and Natasha had all taken a step back and entered defensive positions, wary of whatever might come next. Alice turned towards Loki, who was also staring at the fissure, his face drained of color.

“Thor, hurry and get these mortals _away_ from here,” Loki said, his voice gaining a tinge of panic.

“I will not leave here without you,” Thor said.

“I _will_ restore Asgard. And if I fail, no one will be harmed but me. It’s a win-win situation, really” Loki said, shooting Thor a smirk that was both enraging and heartbreaking.

“-No!” Thor shouted.

“Thor, why don’t you and I stay to try and help Loki, and we can send everyone else back to safety,” Stephen said.

“Sounds good to me,” Stark said a little too eagerly.

Logic confirmed to Alice that Stephen’s plan made sense. He and Thor were the most likely to be able to make a difference in this situation, and assuming Loki’s mirror dimension was successful in shielding the rest of the universe from any fallout, there wasn’t much point in Stark, Natasha, or herself endangering themselves unnecessarily. Still, her heart pushed back against the plan immediately and firmly.

“No, I-” she started to say, then the universe cracked again, this time even louder.

A blur of black darted towards Loki and shattered upon contact with his barrier, and Alice’s eyes darted towards the source: a statuesque woman in a black catsuit crowned by an elaborate, antler-like headpiece. Whoever she was, she _definitely_ had not been there moments before.

“Hello, brother,” the woman purred, leveling a burning gaze at Loki, then space shifted again and she was gone.

“What the hell…” Stark murmured.

“Loki…” Thor said, his voicing rising concern, “What in the nine realms is Hela doing here?”

Loki maintained his grasp on the green time-controlling discs, but Alice could see the alarm in his wide eyes. She had never seen him so rattled.

“I’m trying to keep the time reversal isolated to Asgard, but it can be challenging to keep people out of it. It certainly doesn’t help that _you all_ are here to distract me,” Loki said through gritted teeth.

His brow was furrowed in concentration, and he glared at the space the tall woman previously inhabited as if his gaze could keep her trapped in whatever alternate dimension she came from. Thor rose up from his defensive crouch, shoulders brimming with indignation.

“Loki, Asgard was destroyed in the first place in order to stop Hela. If there is _any chance_ what you are doing right now might bring her back, it is not worth it,” Thor said.

Loki’s eyes darted towards his brother, then flitted back to the epicenter of the time reversal in front of him. He reset his stance, digging his heels into the marble floor beneath his feet.

“I can do it. I can maintain control. That was just a momentary lapse,” he said.

“Stark, I’m about to send you, Agent Romanoff, and Alice back, stay inside the circle,” Stephen said decisively, turning towards Stark.

“Brother, this is madness, if you would only-”

With another sharp crack, the tall woman sheared through time and back into their reality, only this time she appeared inside of Loki’s barrier. Loki barely took half a breath to shout before she stabbed him through the gut with a long, wicked blade. His jaw fell open and his face went ghostly white—immediately Alice could tell that this was not an injury he would shake off like the one he had months earlier. Years of experience gave Alice the ability to recognize a mortal wound when she saw one.

The woman leaned into Loki’s face, her features sharp with cruelty, and she started to whisper something inaudible to him. Loki’s face contorted in pain, and with a burst of energy he pushed her away and summoned the green discs again, twisting the glowing symbols and dispelling his murderous sister from their dimension. With another shift in time and space, the woman was gone, but the damage had been done. Loki gasped and dropped to his knees, the green discs disappearing and the emerald stone dropping to the floor in front of him.

“Loki!!”

Thor’s roar of agony ripped through the air, and he bolted towards the barrier, hammer in hand.

“Thor, don’t!” Stephen shouted, but Thor heedlessly threw the hammer at the barrier with a mighty heave, the weapon carrying with it all of his love and rage and pain. The hammer rebounded off of the bronze shield with a shockwave that shook whatever earth had already reformed, shooting back into Thor’s hand with a force that sent Thor reeling, and surely would have killed any lesser being.

The oxygen had fled Alice’s lungs, and in a distant sort of way she recognized the panic rising within her. Loki was dying, trapped behind an impenetrable barrier. And even the searing pain of potentially losing him could not completely eclipse the realization that now nobody was left to keep the fraying fabric of time and space together. Nerves alight, Alice could somehow sense the increasing fragility of reality around her. The words of a poem she’d heard once long ago rose to her memory.

_Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold_

“Stay sharp, she could be back any moment,” Natasha said, pulling Alice and Stark towards her so they could cover each others’ backs. She also took a moment to uncuff the handcuffs that still bound Alice, and Alice nodded her thanks. She did not fancy the thought of facing that woman down with her arms tied behind her back.

“Strange, is there anything we can do to get you to that Time Stone? We need to stabilize this situation pronto,” Stark said.

“I could try to remove the barrier, but it’s quite powerful and complex—it will take time,” Stephen said.

“Well time is one thing we don’t have,” Stark said.

With another sharp crack, the woman in black reappeared, this time in front of Thor.

“One brother down, one to go,” she sneered.

Thor let out a furious cry and charged at her, spinning his massive hammer, but the woman was able to block each of his attacks with her black daggers. Behind them and visible through the amber sheen of the shield meant to protect him, Loki had fallen to the ground unconscious, his pale hands only inches from the Time Stone.

“Natasha, stay here with the nurse. Strange, work on the barrier,” Stark said, pressing a button and dashing over towards Thor as the Iron Man suit expanded to cover him.

Natasha maneuvered herself defensively in front of Alice, and Alice shrunk away from the violence, her instincts for self-preservation fighting with her desire to help Loki. She nervously twisted the ring on her finger her thoughts unable to fully process the events of the hour, then a crazy, impossible idea occurred to her. If she gave herself a moment to consider it, she knew she would talk herself out of it. So she didn’t.

“I’ll be right back,” she told Natasha, who shot her a bewildered look just as she took off towards the barrier.

“No, Alice, that barrier could kill you!” Stephen shouted.

Alice knew he was right, the glowing bronze wall might kill her. But if her theory was right she’d be able to make it through. She would know soon enough.

Alice reach her left hand out first, the engagement ring Loki had enchanted glinting in the cosmic light and almost seeming to glow as it approached the familiar magic of his shield. Alice closed her eyes just she reached the barrier, bracing herself for the potential blowback, but instead her hand passed right through it, followed swiftly by the rest of her person. When she opened her eyes Loki was right at her feet, lying in a pool of blood, and right next to him was the Time Stone.

Carefully, Alice squatted down next to the stone and extended her hands towards it, careful not to touch it. Remembering her training with Stephen, she reached out through the fabric of time and grasped the power emanating from the stone, gasping in shock as the full weight of its energy hit her.

For a long moment her mind was completely overwhelmed, and she knew she held a power not meant to be wielded by a creature as feeble as herself. Her consciousness rapidly filled with the power, stretching like a water balloon about to burst, and she could sense the imminent threat to her existence if she didn’t figure out a solution soon. After a panicked moment, Alice realized she needed to stop trying to hold all the power inside of her, and instead she let it through right through her, turning her spirit into a sort of conduit for the cosmic power.

Emerald discs appeared in front of her hands, but she didn’t quite see them. Instead, her mind was completely overwhelmed by the different possibilities and threads of time that stretched out in front of her, endless and constantly changing and morphing with each second. Around her, she was dimly aware of shouting and chaos outside of the barrier, but she set it aside and focused on the space-time continuum. She quickly narrowed in on the stretches of time that felt disjointed and unstable, and some instinct within her guided her to tweak and patch this way and that, gradually bringing consistency and balance to the disordered mess.

As she worked, she thought of patients she’d helped before—people with road rash whose wounds needed to be carefully scoured for bits of gravel, or people whose injuries had left shards of bone in places they shouldn’t be. These kinds of messy wounds required careful, methodical attention, and Alice found that healing time was no different. The different threads of time came together bit by bit, and eventually Alice was able to work out the pieces of time that Loki had tried to adjust to restore his homeland. For a moment, she was tempted to try and fix it herself, but the faint yet constant awareness of Loki dying at her feet focused her on the task at hand. She wouldn’t fall into the same trap that he had.

With one more twist of her wrist, the hole in space-time was closed. Alice could sense that the patch they currently inhabited was still weak, but she sensed that it was good enough for the time being. Carefully, Alice released the Time Stone, surprised at how difficult it was to let go of its immense power. She stared at the emerald stone on the ground for a moment, then turned to Loki, rolling him onto his back and examining the gash to his abdomen. It was certainly serious, but none of his organs were spilling out—Alice counted that as a small blessing. Alice removed her sweatshirt and wrapped it around Loki’s stomach, staunching the blood leaking from his front where the blade had entered him, and his back where it had stabbed him through. Without access to a hospital, there wasn’t much more that Alice could do to deal with the wound. Alice rose to her feet and looked around her, seeing for the first time the results of her temporal reconstructive surgery.

The remnants of Asgard floated around them, but remained in a semi-constructed stasis, no longer continuing their gradual self-reassembly. Thor and Loki’s violent sister was nowhere to be found, and a still-armored Stark was helping Thor to his feet. Stephen and Natasha had approached the barrier, and Stephen appeared to be examining it thoughtfully while Natasha waited anxiously at his side, arms crossed.

“Alice, can you hear us?” Natasha asked through the shield.

“Yes, I think things are pretty stable now, but Loki is seriously injured. Is there a way we can get through this barrier?” Alice asked, raising her voice to be heard through the barrier.

“I’m working on it,” Stephen said, “but it could take a while. Since you appear to be immune to the shield, you might be able to simply carry him—and the Stone—through it. Although you cannot touch the Stone with your bare hands.”

“What if it’s in that necklace holder thingy?” Alice asked.

“Yes, that would probably work. Do you see it nearby? Does Loki have it?” Stephen asked.

With renewed urgency, Alice knelt down next to Loki. She searched his armor for pockets, but couldn’t find anything. Whenever he’d needed something, it had always simply materialized, and she wasn’t confident she’d be able to get anything off of him while he was unconscious. Cautiously, Alice jostled his shoulder, hoping to get some level of awareness out of him. His head lolled, and he let out a low groan.

“Loki?” she asked gently, “Loki, do you have that pendant that held the Time Stone? It’s very urgent that you give it to me. Can you do that for me?”

Alice could see Loki’s eyes twitch under his eyelids, and he started mumbling incoherently.

“Time Stone… Restore Asgard… Sorry… I’m sorry…” he murmured.

Alice shook his shoulder a little harder, panic starting the leak through her voice.

“Loki, please, please give me the pendant that holds the Time Stone.”

“Alice? Time Stone… I stole it…” he said feverishly, his eyes still closed.

Frantically, Alice tried to stem the thoughts that rose unbidden to her mind: Loki was dying, and there was nothing she could do about it. Would this be their last conversation? She knew it was hardly the most important issue at hand, but the thought that they would never have a chance to repair their friendship, fractured as it was by broken trust and half truths, broke Alice’s heart.

“The pendant, please,” Alice said softly, her voice cracking on the simple plea.

Weakly, Loki’s arm raised. His palm turned and opened, and with a slight twitch the eye-shaped pendant that had held the Time Stone materialized over his hand. With a gasp of relief, Alice snatched the pendant from the air, holding it near where the emerald gem still lay on the ground. Alice could feel the pendant calling for the Time Stone, and as she held it nearer to the Stone, the Stone lifted off the ground and fit itself neatly inside of the pendant. Alice quickly shoved the pendant into her pocket, heedless of the fact that she had just shoved a Stone of Power formed at the beginning of the universe into her jeans, and turned back towards Loki. Loki wasn’t a bulky man, but he was tall, and in this state he would be entirely dead weight. Alice knew it would be challenging carrying him the six feet she needed to get him out of the barrier. One way or another, she’d manage it. She had no other choice.

Loki lay flat on the ground, so Alice, remembering her training, moved his feet up towards him so his legs bent at the knees. She pulled one of Loki’s arms towards her, and his torso rose from the ground, the rest of him rising to a standing position thanks to his bent knees. Continuing the pulling motion, Alice leaned down so that his torso draped over her shoulder, straining as she stood upright again with his entire bodyweight held on her back. She knew she couldn’t maintain the fireman carry for long, so with as much stability as she could manage, Alice staggered towards where Natasha and Stephen stood on the other side of the barrier. She braced herself once again as she reached the boundary, praying that whatever immunity she had to Loki’s magic extended to both Loki and the Time Stone, and with two more steps she was outside of the barrier. Fighting to avoid collapsing, Alice dropped Loki as gracefully as she could into Stephen’s waiting arms, and leaned over her knees, panting.

“Woman, how is Loki? Will he recover?” Thor asked urgently as he and Stark rushed over to join them.

“He’s…” _huff_ “He’s seriously injured,” _huff_. “He needs treatment as soon as possible.” Alice managed to get out.

 

Once she’d caught her breath, she reached into her pocket for the Time Stone and handed it to Stephen, who took it with the hand that wasn’t holding Loki over his shoulder. Stephen’s eyes met Alice’s, and they were full of gratitude and relief.

“Thank you,” he said, and Alice nodded.

“We must get Loki to safety. There are healers among my people who can save him,” Thor said.

“Strange, is this dimension stable enough for us to leave? Did Alice fix it?” Natasha asked.

Stephen shook his head as he thought, quickly coming to an internal decision.

“It will hold for now. Let’s get everyone back to Earth, get Loki to his people, then Wong and I can come back to patch this up,” he said.

“Great. This little vacation _has_ been fun, but if I miss another dinner reservation Pepper will kill me,” Stark quipped.

Stephen motioned for Thor to take his brother, and Thor hefted Loki onto his shoulder. Some small amount of the immense tension radiating from Thor was diminished now that he held his brother with his own arms—at least now he could actually do something. They all returned to the circle in which Stephen had first transported them, and Stephen made a few more gestures.

“Everybody ready?” Stephen asked, and they all responded in the affirmative.

“Back to Earth, then,” Stephen said, and once again they shot off through space.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, sorry this took so long to write! I was having a tough time with the pacing and character arcs, but I’m pretty happy with how it turned out.

It was strange to be in a hospital and not on-duty. With no control over what was going on or knowledge of what would happen next, Alice sat in the waiting room of the Canadian hospital Stephen had teleported them to and twiddled her thumbs. Alice had always empathized well with her patients and their friends and family, had always understood how frustrating and powerless it can feel to have nothing to do but wait as the doctors and nurses do their work. She’d been on that side of things many a time during Andy’s illness. Still, it had been a while since she’d been in that position herself, and Alice had forgotten exactly how awful it felt to just sit and wait for the future to be decided.

She sat alone outside of Loki’s hospital room on a clean blue plastic chair, one of three that came in a set and formed a sort of public bench in the hallway, fiddling with the hem of her shirt and resisting the urge to mess with her phone (she did not need roaming fees right now, thank you very much). She considered that maybe it would be wise to get on the hospital WiFi to email her mom and let he know everything was OK, but Kathy didn’t know that anything had been wrong in the first place, and Alice couldn’t even begin to explain to her what had happened. It was best to just leave her out of things for now. There was no one Alice could talk to about any of this besides Stephen and Natasha, and she wasn’t really sure if either of them had ever been her friends, much less if they still considered her an ally after all that had happened.

Alice shivered and hugged herself to ward away the chill of the sterile hallway, wishing not for the first time that she hadn’t left her jacket back in Stephen’s study. Once Loki had stabilized, Tony, Natasha, and Stephen had all left to find a vacant room to meet in, and of course Alice had been left out of that conversation. Alice decided that they must be discussing what to do with Loki after his recovery, if and when they should return to Asgard to assess the damage, and how much trouble Alice was in for inadvertently helping Loki steal the Time Stone. And probably something else, Alice mentally added to her list, because who knew what kind of crazy nonsense the Avengers had to deal with on a regular basis.

The Time Stone. Alice still hadn’t really come to grips with the sheer, overwhelming power that had inhabited her body for those few moments back on Asgard. It had been intoxicating and terrifying, and she could easily see how such power could be addictive. A part of her felt like having the power to control time at her fingertips should leave her feeling somehow fundamentally changed, but mostly she just felt numb—like the past 24 hours had all been a strange dream. She was just a normal person, and these kinds of things simply didn’t happen to someone like her.

Surrounded by the strange and unreal, Alice found herself craving normality. She wanted to anchor herself in her real life. She wanted to go to work and chat with Esther about her family, wanted to go out to eat with Jim and Carrie, even wanted to stop over at Barb’s and hear all of the family gossip.

Alice was debating within herself whether she should ask Natasha if she could go home or stay until Loki woke up, when a pair of nurses walking by caught her attention.

“You’re treating that Greek god guy, right?” one nurse said to the other.

“He’s Norse, actually.”

“Whatever. How’s he doing?”

“He just woke up, actually. It’s amazing, he was practically dead when they brought him in, but he’s already talking.”

Before even realizing it Alice was on her feet, headed towards Loki’s room, mind apparently already made up. She had just settled on a few general, how-are-you questions to break the ice, when she heard voices from inside the room.

“-I’m not entirely sure how they’ll react-” Thor’s deep voice emanated from the door that had been left just slightly ajar.

“-if I’m such a problem to you then why did you bother bringing me back to this wretched planet? You should have just left me to die. It would solve _a lot_ of your problems,” Loki responded with aching bitterness.

Alice’s hand froze inches from where she was about to knock on the door. This didn’t sound like the kind of conversation she should interrupt.

Silence reigned in the hospital room for a long, heavy moment.

“Brother, you _were_ dead. I held your lifeless body in my arms, surrounded by hundreds of slaughtered Asgardians. It felt different from that time on Svartalfheim—you were colder, your eyes… they were empty. I _hoped_ , for the first time I hoped that this was one of your tricks, but I knew it wasn’t.”

Alice swallowed thickly, tears pricking at her eyes at the raw emotion in Thor’s voice.

“You are right, brother, that things have changed between us. I no longer feel responsible for your actions. I have accepted that you have no desire to follow the same path that I follow, and I’ve made peace with that. But that does not mean I wish you gone.

“Loki I know what it is for you to be dead. I would never want that,” Thor said.

For a long moment nothing more was said.

“I… appreciate the sentiment, Thor,” Loki said cautiously, tentatively. “But I’m afraid I don’t know _how_ to live. The Nine Realms has changed much since our youth. I don’t know how to exist in it any more.”

Alice could hear the sound of Thor’s heavy footsteps moving about in the room.

“Nobody knows where our place is anymore, Loki. Change is hard, especially for the sons of Asgard, but it is possible. ...I know that mother would have-”

The mention of Loki’s mother broke the spell that seemed to hold Alice captive, and she jerked away from the door. This was definitely not the kind of conversation she was supposed to be privy to.

As she moved back to her plastic seat, Alice’s mind raced. She’d wanted desperately to talk to Loki, to get some answers about how he had used her, if he had meant to hurt her, why he had given her the ring; and at first she had felt entirely entitled to those explanations. Now though… Now it was beginning to dawn on her that her six months living with Loki, though monumental to her, had only constituted a very small part of his life. Loki’s relationship with Thor spanned the centuries, and whatever reconciliation they were going through right now was important, and she had no part in it.

A middle-aged nurse walked briskly towards Alice through the fluorescent-lit hallway, and Alice approached the woman with purpose, asking to borrow a pen and paper from her. The woman looked busy, but only slightly annoyed at the interruption, and handed Alice a sticky-note and pen from her pocket.

Returning to her seat, Alice composed numerous notes to herself in her head. They all started with _Dear Loki_ , but everything after that varied wildly.

_I can’t believe after all that I’ve done for you-_

_No matter what you’ve done, you shouldn’t throw your life away-_

_Was I ever more than just a pawn-_

_I’ve missed you-_

_What is wrong with you-_

None of them was right. They were all either too accusatorial or too lenient and pathetic.

The events of the past half year played on repeat in Alice’s mind. Depending on how she looked at the story, Loki’s signature smirk morphed from a boyish grin to a villainous leer and back again, like a hologram shifting with each change in angle. Alice really wasn’t sure which picture was true, but the more she thought about it, the more she realized it didn’t really matter—at least not as far as she was concerned.

Alice sat back in her chair and sighed, the pen and post-it note falling slack in her lap. It didn’t really matter who Loki truly was, because the bit part she had played in the epic poem of his life had come to an end. The measure of his actions—the balance of his good deeds against his sins—was so much greater than anything she’d ever considered, and in the end her opinion on the matter was moot. She needed to isolate her experiences with him to how they had affected her personally, and when she did that the conclusion that she drew was this: he had come into her life, he had brought fun and excitement and change into her static existence, he had betrayed her trust, and then he had gone. If he was just some random guy, she knew what she would be telling herself: this had been fun, but it wasn’t good for her. She wouldn’t normally continue to believe in someone who hadn’t earned that trust, so why would she start now? He also likely had little to no intention of continuing their friendship, and removing herself from the picture would be both wise and face-saving.

After considering for another moment, Alice leaned over her lap and scribbled out her note as cleanly as she could. Just as she finished her loop signature, Natasha sat down beside her, apparently done with her secret Avengers conference.

“Hey there. Holding up alright?” Natasha asked, her husky voice genuine.

Alice nodded dumbly, folding the post-it note once to hide her words.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Alice said, avoiding meeting Natasha’s gaze. “If it’s alright, I’d like to go home.”

Alice lifted her eyes up to measure Natasha’s response, and the other woman returned her contemplative look.

“It might be best if-” Natasha started.

“-Oh let the poor nurse go home, Nat. I’ll take her myself,” Tony Stark said as he strode up behind Natasha.

He continued on towards Alice, leaning down to her with a conspiratorial look.

“You won’t mind if we stick you with some agents for a couple of days, right? Until this whole mess is sorted out?” he said in a stage whisper.

Alice hadn’t really expected them to just let her go without any kind of follow up, so Stark’s deal sounded alright to her.

“Sure, I don’t mind,” Alice said with a tired smile.

“And without that teleportation ring thing, she won’t be able to disapparate herself or whatever it is you’re worried about, Nat,” Stark said with a smirk.

Natasha’s mouth was a flat line across her serious features, but after a moment of contemplation, she shrugged.

“I guess it’s alright with me then,” she said, then she turned to Alice, “You’ll be under constant surveillance though, you know that right?”

“That’s alright with me,” Alice said humbly, feeling relieved that at least she could go home.

Alice reflexively reached for her purse before remembering that in her haste she’d brought almost nothing with her, then remembered there was one other thing she wanted to do before she left. She handed the post-it note to Natasha.

“Could you get this to Loki, please?” Alice asked.

Natasha quirked an eyebrow up at her.

“You can read it if you want,” Alice said, “no secret messages, I promise.”

Natasha took the note and unfolded it, eyes narrowing as she deciphered Alice’s messy handwriting.

_Loki,_

_I hope you find your purpose. I wish you the best._

_-Alice Wakefield_

Alice had made sure to sign her full name. Somehow it felt like signing it just with her first name was presumptuous—like it implied a level of personal relationship that had not been earned. It made her a little sad, but it was good to put some more distance between herself and her erstwhile houseguest.

Natasha folded the post-it back up and nodded to Alice.

“Sure, I’ll give it to him.”

“OK, great, now that all the yearbooks have been signed, let’s get this show on the road,” Stark said, clapping his hands.

He turned towards Stephen, who had just joined them from further down the hall.

“Strange, can you open one of those mystical portal thingies? It would be great if I could make my dinner reservation in twenty minutes,” Tony said.

Strange rolled his eyes and sighed.

“Sure, where are your reservations?” Strange asked.

“Gramercy Tavern,” Stark said.

“-But Alice lives in Brooklyn,” Strange started to say.

“-just send them both to Stark Tower. An agent will meet Alice there and take her home, and it’s not too far from Stark’s dinner date,” Natasha said with some impatience.

“Sounds good to me,” Stark said, and Alice nodded in acceptance.

Stephen opened the portal, and through the glowing orange loop Alice could make out Stark’s large and stylish private study. Strange caught Alice’s eye and he gave her a look of regret.

“After everything is sorted out, I’ll give you your sling ring back, OK?” he said, sounding a little chagrined.

“Sure, not a problem” Alice said, eager to demonstrate her willingness to cooperate. She would not easily forget Stephen’s look of betrayal when Loki had stolen the Time Stone.

Stark pulled a pair of superfluous sunglasses out of somewhere and put them on as he strode towards the portal, waving a jaunty goodbye to Natasha and Strange, and Alice followed after him into the study, the portal closing quickly behind them.

Stark strode up to a desk in the corner of the room and started pressing buttons, immediately absorbed in some business or other that seemed unrelated to the galaxy-endangering events of the day. Life goes on, Alice supposed. She just stood in the middle of the study, looking around her in curiosity with hands folded demurely across her waist. The study was actually more of a penthouse suite, and Alice tried to appreciate what was probably the best view in the city.

“One of Natasha’s goons is on his way to pick you up. He should be here any minute,” Stark said without looking up from his computer. “Feel free to take a seat.”

Alice gingerly perched on a stylish, uncomfortable-looking designer chair, and almost as soon as she’d settled, Stark finished whatever he was doing and bounded across the room to where she sat, leaning on a couch next to her chair.

“So. We didn’t get a chance to talk much before. You’ve had quite a day—aiding and abetting an intergalactic known war criminal in stealing a universe-ending weapon, then helping the Avengers in stopping said war criminal. God, sometimes I hear the words I say and even I think I sound ridiculous.”

His words were casual, but Alice knew the gravity that lay behind them. She met Stark’s gaze with her own unflinching one, willing him to believe her.

“I didn’t mean to help him. I really didn’t.”

He shrugged.

“I believe you, I guess. But you know, with Loki you just never really know,” he said, taking a sip from a tumbler of scotch that Alice hadn’t noticed him pick up.

He turned his head away from Alice towards the large glass windows, a faraway look in his eyes.

“I don’t think you intentionally helped him steal the Time Stone, but I do think you harbor dangerous levels of empathy for him. He does seem different than he was before, but I know what he’s capable of. He attacked New York, caused the deaths of hundreds of civilians, and didn’t care at all. That’s not the kind of thing I can just forget, you know?”

Alice swallowed, uncomfortable, and shifted against the geometric plains of the angular chair.

“I know that,” she said meekly.

Stark turned back towards her, leveling the most focused gaze she’d ever seen from him.

“He tried to kill me, you know. Threw me out that window,” Stark said, gesturing with his tumbler at the skyline. “Obviously he didn’t succeed, but with several years distance between now and then, I’m willing to admit that it’s mostly sheer dumb luck that I survived.”

Stark set his drink down and pushed off the couch, taking two steps towards Alice.

“Be careful. He’s out of your life now. Make sure you keep it that way.”

Alice ducked her head, and her fingers laced together in her lap, knuckles squeezing together until it hurt, skin pinching between the metal of her diamond-studded ring.

“I will,” she said.

\---

Alice came home from Stark Tower tired, numb, and overwhelmed. She hardly even minded the agent she had been sent home with looming behind her as she trudged up the stairs, her exhausted brain perfectly happy simply ignoring him for as long as possible. She unlocked the front door to her apartment (funny, she didn’t remembering locking or even shutting her front door when she’d fled the day before) prepared to spend the evening righting her trashed apartment, and was utterly flummoxed to find her place perfectly cleaned and ordered—catalogue-ready, even. She turned to the agent behind her—Smith, she thought—and shot him a questioning look.

“Did your people sweep my place while I was gone?” she asked.

A confused expression crossed his face for a moment before he forced it back to its normal passivity.

“Excuse me,” he said, stepping back into the kitchen and speaking low into his earpiece.

So, it probably wasn’t SHIELD then.

In a daze, Alice walked around her apartment, checking all her customary spots: the TV, the oven, the faucets. Eventually, she made her way over to the scene of the crime: the corner where she’d found her wedding photo smashed and lying on the ground. Sitting on the end of the counter, entirely whole in its picture frame, was the picture of her and Andy on their wedding day.

She didn’t know how or when, but the shattered frame she’d taken to Dr. Strange to be repaired had either been restored, or had never been broken in the first place. There was only one person on Alice’s list of possible suspects.

Somehow, it was almost worse that Loki hadn’t actually destroyed her picture. At least that would mean that her reaction was her own—that it was a move consciously made in response to awful but real circumstances. But now… Now she knew that she had simply been living in Loki’s reality, where everything she did followed along with his script. She had held universe-forming power in her hands only a few hours ago, and yet her life was completely and utterly out of her control. She was just a puppet on a string, and even the stage around her was owned by the puppetmaster.

She was sick of it.

Alice sat on the ground, just like she had the day before upon finding the picture frame broken, and stared at it. For too long she had let herself become an object in her own life, always being acted upon and never acting for herself. As angry as she was with Loki, recent events only served to highlight how, even before Loki had cast his spell over her, Alice had long since ceded control of her life over to the rest of the world. Ever since Andy had fallen ill, Alice had become entirely reactive instead of pushing the story of her life forward.

It had made sense at the time. Cancer is something that happens to you, and you don’t have a lot of say over what it takes from you. But somehow that disease had stolen not only her husband, but her agency as well. For years her life had been like that: someone gets hurt, try to fix them. Bills arrive, pay them on time. Mother-in-law calls, call her back. Mad norse god shows up, try to mitigate damages. Alice had ceased to have her own goals, ceased to play the lead role in her own life. Loki hadn’t been the start of all that, but he’d certainly brought it to a whole other level.

Reverently, Alice stood and put Andy’s photo back on the counter. She wasn’t going to punish herself for this, but she wouldn’t just let it stand. She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. Things were about to change. She swore it. She knew prayers were supposed to go to God, but she hoped that He might deliver that message to Andy, wherever he was. Andy had always wanted her to be happy, even after he was gone, and she would make sure that happened. Things were going to change, and Alice was going to get her life back.

\---

The first thing Alice did was call her mother.

“Hey Mom, I…. can you go see a couple of apartments I’m looking at in LA for me? I’m thinking of- No, I’m _definitely_ moving back. Soon. Like in a month.”

“You’re moving to LA?!” Kathy’s excited voice reverberated through the speaker, “I mean, I’m thrilled, obviously, but… why so suddenly?”

“Your visit just reminded me of how much I miss home,” Alice told Kathy, clutching her cellphone close to her face, “I only ever really came here for Andy, and… he’s been gone for a while now.”

“Well you know I would just be thrilled to pieces if you lived nearby, honey,” Kathy said, voice full, as ever, with motherly empathy, “If you’re sure this is what you want of course I’ll help you find a place and help with the move and everything.”

Alice smiled to herself, for once entirely eager to accept her mother’s help. She needed a change of scenery, a fresh start; and she knew that reconnecting with Kathy would be a big step in that direction.

“Yeah, Mom. I think I’d like that.”

\---

The second thing Alice did was call Dr. Stephen Strange.

“Hey there doctor, er, Stephen, this is Alice,” she said, her words tumbling nervously into the speaker, “Listen, I know that you have to do some more vetting or surveillance or mystical diagnostics in order to tell if Loki still has a hold on me or not, but once that's done I'd like to keep working with you. Or rather for you.”

A silence that felt interminably long drifted over the airwaves.

“Oh, uh. Yeah, it’s nice to hear from you,” Strange said, his voice somewhat stilted, “I was planning on setting up a time to debrief on the Asgard incident once you’ve had a chance to settle-”

“-I, I don’t really need to settle, I just want to move forward. If that’s possible.”

“I suppose I can move up our meeting if that’s what you’d like. Considering that you stole the Time Stone, though, I’m not sure other members of the Sanctum would be exactly thrilled if you continued studying with us.”

Alice’s grip on the pen she held at the ready for notetaking tightened. Alice hadn’t wanted something for herself in a long time, and now that she did finally want something, her anxiety was going through the roof.

Alice tried to relax and set the pen down on the sheet of paper and book (also for notetaking) she held in her other hand. The book was a copy of _Lean In_. Barb had given her a while ago that she’d only recently opened for the first time.

“I understand the concern, but Loki had enchanted me. If you can determine that that’s what happened, then it’s not fair to hold me accountable for what he manipulated and bewitched me into doing,” she said.

“That’s fair,” Stephen said. “If we’re able to determine that then we certainly won’t blame you for something you couldn’t control.”

“Great. And I will do whatever it takes to help you make that determination. I’m confident you will see that I had no intention of working counter to the Sanctum’s aims.”

Alice swallowed thickly, bracing herself for what was to come. This was the hard part.

“And if the Sanctum is willing to let me continue my studies, I’d like to do that in Los Angeles.”

“What?” Stephen asked.

“I’m moving to Los Angeles, and you’ve mentioned multiple times that you’d like to expand the number and location of Sanctum branches in order to cover more ground. I’d like to be the founding member of the Los Angeles branch.”

“Well… well isn’t that something,” was all Stephen said.

\---

The third thing Alice did was call Oscar.

“Hello, this is Oscar Santos speaking.”

“Hi Oscar, it’s Alice.”

The phone was silent for a long moment.

“Oh, hey Alice! Sorry, I didn’t recognize your number.”

Of course he didn’t—she’d borrowed Carrie’s phone since he hadn’t been answering hers.

“Yeah, different phone,” Alice said unapologetically. “Anyway, I don’t want to pester you or anything. I just haven’t been able to reach you for awhile and I think I deserve an explanation.”

A heavy sigh emanated from the speaker.

“Yeah. Yeah, you probably do. I’m sorry I’ve been AWOL, it’s really not OK of me,” he said.

“I’m fine if you just weren’t feeling it. I just want to know why. You didn’t really seem like the ghosting type,” Alice said, continuously capping and uncapping the pen in her hand as she spoke.

“Well…” Oscar started, the hesitation clear in his voice, “to tell you the truth, I was really into you, but then I started getting these weird phone calls. They were from people you knew, asking about us, and if we were going anywhere, and what my intentions towards you were. Something about it felt a little… off. Like whoever it was was trying to freak me out. It seemed like maybe your life was more complicated than you’d said, and it might be better to just stay out of it.”

“People were calling you? Who?” Alice asked, sitting up in her chair. She didn’t know why she asked, though. She already knew who it must have been.

“It was just three or four people, three women and one guy. They would never tell me their names, just that they were friends of yours. It was really weird, to be honest. Kind of creeped me out,” Oscar admitted.

Alice sat back into her chair. She was certain she knew what had happened. For whatever reason, Loki hadn’t wanted Oscar sniffing around, so he’d scared the poor man off. She couldn’t really blame Oscar for having the self-preservation instincts she clearly lacked.

“Ah, I understand. Look, Oscar, you’re right, I had some crazy things going on in my life then. I want you to know I had no idea that people were harassing you, and those people who were calling you are not my friends. But I’m sorry that happened, and I don’t blame you for what you did.”

“Oh, ok. That’s… really sweet of you, Alice, thank you,” Oscar said, his familiar warmth coming through even across the phone, “I’m really sorry things didn’t work out.”

Alice allowed herself a wry smile, and gave herself a moment to mourn what could have been, had circumstances been different.

“Yeah, I am too. And um, just so you know, I’m moving out of the city,” she said.

“Oh, that’s… great?”

“Yeah, it is. I’m really excited for a fresh start.”

“That’s awesome, Alice. You’re a really great person, and I wish you the best.”

“Thanks Oscar, you too,” Alice, said.

\---

Her last call was to the hospital, to tell them she was officially resigning.

The next two weeks were a flurry of activity. She had to end her lease, find a new place in LA, and move all of her stuff across the country, not to mention explain her sudden relocation to Esther, Barb, Jim, Carrie, and anyone else in New York who cared about her.

In between all of this, she also had to make frequent trips to both SHIELD’s New York headquarters and the Sanctum Sanctorum to undergo tests and interviews both traditional and magical. It took hours and hours of patience and determination, but just in time for her move, a team of special agents and mystic monks declared Alice safe and conflict free.

A heavy load that Alice hadn’t even realized was there was lifted off when she realized that the slight doubt and hesitation that had laced all of Natasha and Stephen’s interactions with her these past weeks was finally gone, and she thought that perhaps they truly could be called her friends. She was also astronomically relieved to not have to explain to Kathy why a shadowy agent was tagging along with them on their cross-country road trip.

She also never asked anyone at the Sanctum or with SHIELD about Loki. Nobody ever volunteered any information about him either, which Alice told herself was fine.

Alice made sure she took time with all of her remaining friends, to explain to them why she was moving, thank them for all their support, and assure them of her frequent contact and occasional visits. They all, without exception, wished her well, asked her if she needed any help, and reminisced with Alice over her decade spent in New York. Alice’s heart ached a little at the gleam of doubt that glimmered in the eyes of her friends, though, at each of Alice’s promises to stay in touch. She understood their skepticism given her track record, but she was determined to prove them wrong. Things would be different now.

With those promises in mind, Alice found a nice apartment in Glendale, purchased a used Honda, packed all her things in a U-haul, and road tripped across the country with her mom, finally making it back to her home state over a decade after she’d left.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was originally planning on this chapter being the last, but it felt like there was still more growth the characters needed to go through before it come to a satisfying conclusion. I’ve got a plan for the next several chapters, and I don’t think it should go on for too much longer, but I can’t give an exact chapter count yet. Hopefully that’s good news? Anyway, thanks for sticking with me and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

The crisp air nipped at Alice’s face as she tugged on her car door handle, but all she could think was that it wasn’t cold enough for November. Alice may have been born in California, but at this point she’d lived in New York longer than she’d lived anywhere else, and even after a year back on the West Coast it still didn’t feel right to be able to step out of the house in late fall in nothing but a thin sweatshirt and be fine. Settling into the seat of her used Honda, Alice told herself she’d get used to the weather here, and she knew it was true. Eventually.

It wasn’t that early in the morning, but it was Alice’s first day off work in a full week, and she was tired. She wiped her bleary eyes as she drove to In-N-Out, picking up two burgers and some fries. Her day off from work meant her day on at the Sanctum, and she needed to be there on time for her weekly meeting with Stephen and the other members at Bleecker Street.

Alice briefly considered hitting the gas as the light in front of her turned yellow, but decided to make the responsible choice with a sigh. Not for the first time, she wished that she could just teleport right to the Sanctum, but ever since the Loki debacle, Stephen had set up wards that made teleporting directly inside any of the Sanctum locations impossible, and it wasn’t as if Alice could just appear out of thin air on the sidewalk without attracting unwanted attention.

As she drove, her mind went back to a patient she’d treated the day before. The patient, a fourteen year old girl named Emily who’d been in a car accident, had been in so much pain. Despite all her training, all Alice could do for her was give her pain medication and advice on what supplements might prevent the early-onset arthritis she was likely to suffer. Alice had been sorely tempted to try out a bone mending spell she’d just been researching on the young Emily, but attempting such a procedure without her own trials or Emily’s consent was simply not ethical.

Ever since founding the Los Angeles chapter of the Sanctum Sanctorum, Alice had chosen to focus her studies on medical applications of the mystic arts. It had been slow going at first, especially since the Sanctum’s particular brand of magic had very few applications in the field of health and medicine (as Dr. Strange had discovered the hard way upon journeying to Kamar-Taj). Thankfully, many late nights in the library had pointed Alice in alternative directions, and she discovered different schools of magic that had more research related to the physical body. She’d begun amassing her own collection of healing-related tomes and spells in the Los Angeles Sanctum’s little library, and was beginning to make real headway. Her successes so far had been small (healing a paper cut, removing a wart, that kind of thing—all tested on herself of course), but the promise of so much more urged her on. Maybe someday she’d have more to offer Emily. She might even be able to help Stephen.

She pulled into her customary spot in front of the Pasadena mission-style house that she had converted into the fourth location of the Sanctum Sanctorum and bounded up the stairs to the front door, pulling her keys out as she went. As soon as she got inside, she hastily donned the sorcerer’s robes hanging on the coat rack by the door, then snatched her bag of fast food up again and dashed off towards the nondescript closet that housed the portal to the New York Sanctum. In moments she was falling through the portal and into New York.

Latisha jumped at the sight of Alice stumbling through the hallway of the aged Village manor.

“Oh, Alice, you’re early!” the younger woman said.

Alice stood up, righting her robes and holding the bag of fast food out towards Latisha.

“Yeah, I wanted to chat, and also give you this.”

Latisha took the white bag from Alice gingerly, inspecting it as if it were an unidentified new species.

“I accept that believing Shake Shack is better than In-N-Out is a valid opinion, but you cannot insist that one is better than the other if you’ve never even tried In-N-Out before.”

Latisha laughed and opened the bag, burying her smiling face inside for a moment.

“Wow, I didn’t realize you were this committed to converting me.”

“Anything to defend the good name of In-N-Out,” Alice deadpanned. She may be more familiar with New York than Los Angeles by now, but that didn’t mean she was a traitor.

Latisha sat down in a chair farther down the hall and pulled out her burger. Alice followed her, eager to gauge her reaction. Latisha was the newest trainee at the Sanctum, an African American recent high school graduate that Wong had somehow discovered in Queens. Since they’d first been introduced six months earlier, Alice had grown to really care for Latisha, and the idea of acting as a sort of older sister to the younger woman was undeniably appealing.

Latisha bit into the burger with vigor, then took a moment as she chewed to consider the taste.

“What do you think? Isn’t it great?”

Latisha scrunched up her face in thought.

“I dunno… It’s a little small,” Latisha said doubtfully.

“Ok, quality over quantity.”

“The sauce is really good.”

“I know, right? I also got you some fries with the sauce on it. They’re amazing,” Alice gushed.

“But… Like, it’s _good_ , but I feel like Shake Shack is… fancier? I don’t know what to tell you, Alice, I think Shake Shack wins this one.”

Alice’s heart fell.

“You have to consider the price, though. It’s only $2.40!”

“Ok, I’ll give you that. Maybe for the price, this is better,” Latisha admitted.

Alice took it, even though she was pretty sure Latisha was just trying to humor her.

“You’ve got _that_ right,” Alice said, accepting the gifted victory, then she reached into the bag for her own burger and headed down the hall. “We’re meeting in the south study, right? We can polish off these masterpieces there.”

The pair made their way down the carpeted hallway towards the first landing of the staircase that bisected the mansion, and Alice was so caught up in her appreciation of her burger that she practically tripped over Loki as he crossed the landing towards the front door.

“Woah, I beg your pardon-”

“Oh my God, Loki-”

Loki’s hands stabilized Alice’s shoulders as she nearly fell over, burger in hand.

“Ah, Alice, you’re early,” Stephen said from somewhere behind Loki.

Alice found her footing and took a step back from Loki, eyes flitting from Loki to Stephen, then back again. Loki looked… good. He was wearing dark green clothing with a definite Asgardian influence, but gone were the heavy gold accents and princely ornamentation. Not that his clothes looked anything so mundane as to be mistaken for earthly garb, but it was all relatively understated for him. His features were pale, but within his normal pasty range, and he didn’t seem quite as frighteningly skinny as he had been when she’d first picked him up from the hospital. Whatever injuries he had sustained at the hands of Hela, he seemed fully recovered.

“Yeah, I just wanted to talk with Latisha for a bit before the meeting,” Alice said, moving the bag of fast food behind her back.

Despite her repeated dodges, Loki eventually caught her eye. He smiled softly and dipped his head in her direction.

“Alice. A pleasure to see you again.”

Alice swallowed and nodded back.

“Yeah,” was the only response she could manage.

“Latisha, you as well,” Loki said.

“Hey Loki,” Latisha responded easily.

Alice took a deep breath. The last time she had seen this man, he had been bleeding out in her arms on a distant planet, surrounded by the unravelling fabric of time.

Stephen cleared his throat. Oh. The silence between Alice and Loki must have stretched longer than was comfortable.

“Loki’s here giving us some guidance on elvish magic. There’s a dark elf on the loose, and I must admit their particular brand of mystic manipulation is not my area of specialty,” Stephen said.

Loki nodded in agreement.

“Glad to be of assistance.”

Stephen gestured towards the door, and he and Loki continued down the staircase to the exit. Alice looked after them for a moment, then continued on towards the meeting room, ignoring the significant glances Latisha kept shooting her.

Once they were farther down the hall, Alice reached for Latisha’s arm.

“Latisha, you’ve met Loki before,” she guessed from Latisha’s casual greeting of the demigod, “-how long has he been coming around here?”

Latisha shrugged.

“I dunno, maybe around six months?”

“I… I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah...” Latisha said, trailing off ominously.

Latisha looked straight forward for a moment, then shot Alice a look out of the side of her eye.

“You and Loki used to be some kind of… thing, right?”

Some phlegm conveniently lodged itself in Alice’s throat, and it took a moment of violent coughing to dislodge it.

“What did Stephen say!?” she demanded, as soon as she caught her breath.

Latisha laughed.

“Stephen is _useless_ when it comes to gossip. If you want to know anything juicy, Wong’s the one to ask.”

“Ok then, what did Wong say?” Alice asked, promising to herself to make Wong pay for his loose lips later.

“He said that you took care of Loki for a while after The Return. He said that you guys were close but that it was… complicated.”

Alice’s mouth twisted into something between a grin and a grimace.

“You could say that,” she said, pushing through the heavy double doors into the study.

Alice set the In-N-Out bag down on the polished mahogany tabletop as she took a seat, the greasy white paper contrasting sharply with the lavish, antique interiors of the room. Latisha sat across from her, then reached into the bag to steal a french fry.

“Ok, there’s obviously more going on here. He was like basically a maniacal super villain a couple of years ago, but for the past six months he’s been helping Dr. Strange and the Avengers every once in a while. I’ve seen him around, and people don’t seem exactly comfortable with him, but they also aren’t trying to lock him up or anything. What changed?” Latisha asked around the french fry.

Alice heaved a massive sigh.

“You know, I really wish I knew. I just happened to find Loki in the hospital I was working at after the Return. I, being an idiot, took him home and took care of him while he recovered from the trauma, having exactly zero clue of who or what he was. Eventually, we became… friends, I guess. Then later on I found out who he was, and he kind of brainwashed me into letting him keep living with me. I met Stephen because of him, and started my training here because of him. Then he tried to steal the Time Stone from the Sanctum, almost tore apart the fabric of time, and got himself stabbed by his psycho sister. Stephen, his brother, and I saved him, and I haven’t seen him since.”

By the time Alice finished explaining, Latisha’s jaw was practically on the table.

“Wow. That is… a lot.”

“Yeah, and the thing is… he really did seem like he was trying to be better. Even when he stole the Time Stone, he had good intentions. But he’s still… I don’t know. When someone deceives and controls you like that, you just can’t let it pass, you know? So I don’t know if I could ever really be close to Loki again.”

Latisha set her handful of fries down and pointed at Alice.

“You’re right, Alice. You can’t just let something like that go. It doesn’t matter what kind of smarmy bad-boy sexiness that guy is putting out, no one is worth that kind of mess.”

Alice nodded along, knowing everything that Latisha was saying was true. She groaned and buried her head in her hands.

“Ugh, I really wanted to be this cool, wise mentor to you, but now that you know how messed up my life is, you couldn’t possibly take me seriously!”

Latisha shook her head.

“You got it all wrong. The best mentors are the people who’ve been through some shit. Do you think I’d trust advice from someone who’d never had any problems in their life?”

Alice smiled and reached across the table, taking Latisha’s hand and squeezing.

“Thanks, Tisha.”

“Of course. Also, you’re like super good at this stuff. I mean, your research is really amazing.”

“What are you talking about, you’ve picked up teleportation and shields way faster than I have.”

“Ok, I might be good at the stuff Strange does, but even he’s never been able to make any progress using the mystic arts to heal. And he’s a freaking _doctor_.”

Alice tried to hide her smile, secretly pleased by the praise.

“Ok guys, sorry I’m late,” Stephen said, sweeping into the room, his cloak floating in after him.

He sat down at the head of the table and conjured up the tablet on which he kept his notes. He looked down at the tablet for a moment, then raised his head, catching Alice in his piercing gaze.

“Actually, before we start I want to apologize, Alice. We’ve been working with Loki for a little while now, and I wanted to make sure you didn’t have to see him unless you wanted to. I apologize both for not telling you about our collaboration, and for allowing today’s run-in.”

“That’s alright, Stephen. I’m not afraid of seeing him. I was just a little taken aback,” Alice replied, touched that Stephen would be so concerned for her feelings.

“Ok, good. And…” Stephen paused, measuring his words, “and just so you know, we didn’t start working with Loki without serious consideration. Whenever he’s on Earth, he’s under close supervision by his brother, and obviously close surveillance by SHIELD. He’s been very cooperative and helpful, so as time has passed he’s been allowed more freedoms.

“After the Time Stone incident I was probably more suspicious than anyone about his intentions, but thus far he’s been a reliable ally.”

Alice looked back into Stephen’s icy eyes, surprised to feel pinpricks of tears building up in her own. She blinked them away quickly.

“That’s… good. I’m really glad he seems to be turning over a new leaf. Just… I mean, I’m sure you’re aware, but just remember that he’s lived a long time. He can be patient,” Alice said.

He was her friend for six months, after all.

Stephen nodded solemnly.

“Of course,” he said, then glanced back down at the tablet and cleared his throat.

“Now on to today’s agenda-”

“-Wait!” Latisha interrupted, “you’re forgetting _the most important announcement_.”

Stephen looked up again, an expression of genuine confusion crossing his austere features.

“What?” he asked.

Latisha’s eyes widened to comedic proportions.

“Are you serious? You don’t remember _the most exciting thing that has happened to you this week_?”

Realization dawned on Stephen’s face.

“Oh yes, I’m getting married.”

\---

Drs. Stephen Strange and Christine Palmer were married only three months later, the ceremony and reception both small, classy affairs in Manhattan. It was a short engagement, but their no-nonsense attitude towards the matter, in combination with their relatively advanced age, sped up the process. _I’ve spent long enough not married to her_ , was what Stephen would say when pressed, making him one of the most accidentally romantic people Alice had ever met.

Alice was flattered to be one of the only eighty people invited, although she supposed her inclusion made sense when she thought about it. She still stuck her invitation to her fridge and gazed at it proudly each day, relieved at the irrefutable evidence that she was still capable of making new friends.

Alice had splurged on a new dress for the occasion, dragging both her mom and her college roommate Riya along with her to the mall for the day-long dress hunt it took to find something suitably flattering. Riya and Kathy had both been remarkably enthusiastic about the whole ordeal, which was a great relief to Alice. Riya and Alice had only recently reconnected, and she hadn’t been certain their still-new friendship could handle the strain of a full-on retail marathon.

In the end they’d settled on a pale pink number with soft chiffon that draped elegantly across Alice’s shoulders and hips and gathered at her waist. The pink offset her tan skin nicely, and the fabric floated and twinkled around her in a way that made her feel more beautiful than she’d felt in a long time. It was the kind of dress she’d probably never find another occasion to wear, but for once Alice didn’t care.

Alice ended up feeling very relieved that she’d bought the extravagant gown when she ended up seated on a row near the front of the audience only several seats down from Tony Stark and the always-elegant Pepper Potts. If she hadn’t spent some money, she was sure she would have looked like a pauper next to them. She liked Tony and Pepper, but she couldn’t help feeling a bit intimidated by them, and was grateful that Latisha and Wong were her immediate seat partners.

The ceremony took place on what Alice was certain was one of the only rooftop gardens in lower Manhattan, and Alice’s heart was full as she watched her friends pledge themselves to each other, the soft pink sky and the bold New York skyline behind them. Knowing how far both Christine and Stephen had come to get to this point, and remembering the joy her own marriage had brought her, Alice was confident in their future together. She also knew that Stephen in particular carried many burdens, and that he tended to carry them himself. His time with Christine had softened him, teaching him the vulnerability to rely on her, and giving him the opportunity to be a support for her.

Vows were exchanged, rings swapped, kisses shared, and soon enough the newly minted husband and wife were walking back down the aisle together, all eyes following them. Alice turned in her seat to catch their dramatic exit, and her gaze landed on a brawny blond man in resplendent red and silver armor. It was Thor, and right next to him sat Loki.

Alice’s eyes met Loki’s azure gaze for a split second, and she immediately turned back around in her seat, her heart in her throat. How the hell had Stephen and Loki patched things up to the extent that Stephen would invite him to _his wedding_? Alice squeezed her eyes shut and promised herself she would make Stephen pay for not telling her about this—after his honeymoon of course.

Loki had only been in her line of sight for less than a second, but still his appearance stamped itself onto the inside of her eyelids. Loki just _had_ to look all dashing and gorgeous, didn’t he? He was wearing a dark green, knee-length wool coat with golden buttons on the cuffs and across the front. Underneath he wore an exquisitely tailored black suit with a green tie anchored by a golden tie clip that Alice somehow knew, even from this distance, was made of real gold.

“Alice, are you alright?” Latisha asked, giving her shoulder a gentle shake.

Alice dragged her eyes open and looked over at her friend, letting the dread show on her face. Latisha looked back at her in confusion, then turned in her seat towards the back of the audience. Understanding illuminated her face.

“Ah. You didn’t know he was coming, did you?”

Alice’s lips twisted.

“No, I did not.”

Latisha sighed, then shook her head.

“Don’t worry about him, Alice. Just have fun. Don’t let him ruin your night. You look freaking amazing.”

Alice laughed, a smile finally coming to her face.

“Ok, I’m on it,” she said, standing and gathering her purse and coat up, “let’s go to the reception. I ordered the fish, and I bet it’s going to be amazing.”

\---

 _This fish really_ is _delicious._

That was the thought going through Alice’s head when the God of Thunder took the seat next to her at her table in the reception hall, his large frame casting a dark shadow over her plate. Alice looked over at Thor and tried to swallow the mass of masticated salmon lodged in her throat.

“My apologies, Lady Wakefield, I did not intend to startle you.”

Finally succeeding in shoving the fish through her esophagus, Alice smiled back at Thor.

“Oh, no problem. Just bad timing is all.”

Thor smiled generously at her.

“I thought I should introduce myself. We did not have an opportunity to really get acquainted at our last meeting.”

“Um, yeah, I would have liked to get to know you better, but given the circumstances…”

_If you hadn’t been convinced I was a traitor, then busy trying to save your brother’s life..._

“Of course,” Thor said with understanding. “I am sorry, though, that I haven’t taken the time to get to know you since then. I’ve always been curious about the woman who managed to tame my brother.”

Alice almost choked on the champagne she’d just swallowed, and hastily set her glass down.

“Oh I _definitely_ didn’t tame Loki. I’m pretty sure that’s not possible.”

Thor shrugged.

“Perhaps you are right. Not even the fates could force my brother to do something he didn’t want to do. Still, I believe you were a good influence on him.”

Alice looked away from the golden demigod and into her champagne glass, searching the pale liquid for... _something_.

“I don’t know. It’s hard to imagine that I had any impact on him whatsoever.”

Alice heard Thor shift in his seat beside her, but didn’t look up from her glass.

“You underestimate yourself I think.”

Alice set her glass down on the table and looked back at Thor, mouth a line.

“Really? If I had to guess what events might precipitate a redirection in life, then dying and coming back to life, reconnecting with a close brother, or nearly tearing apart the time-space continuum ranks higher on my list than spending six months with some random nurse in New York City.”

Thor’s eyebrows rose in surprise at her upset response, and she could see the apology rising in his throat.

“-Don’t get me wrong,” she said, preempting his objections, “I don’t think I’m not… I dunno, a good or valuable person. I’m a great nurse, a devoted daughter, I’m somehow decently good at the mystic arts, and I’m learning to be a better friend. I’ve got a lot going for me. I just don’t want to trick myself into thinking that I meant more to Loki than I did, because… that’s what he wanted me to think.”

Thor nodded slowly, crossing his arms across his broad chest.

“That makes sense. I can understand why you’d want to protect yourself around Loki. It’s probably the the smart move, to be honest. But I will say that things would not have been the same for Loki if he’d just been left alone in that hospital forever. You showed him kindness, without any expectations, ulterior motives, or hope of reward. I’ve known my brother for over a thousand years, and I know he would not be where he is right now if you hadn’t shown him that kindness.”

Thor’s words resurrected a hope within Alice that she’d thought long dead, but this same hope she tried to quash down.

“...And where is he now, exactly? Is he really changed?” she asked.

Thor chuckled to himself.

“You know my brother well to doubt. I will admit that you can never be entirely certain with Loki. Such is the burden of caring for him. But to me his change of heart seems genuine. What most convinces me is that it is difficult. I can see that it is not always easy for Loki to offer assistance when it is needed, to hold himself back from repaying slights, to resist the urge to seize whatever scrap of power becomes available to him. When Loki is scheming, it is easy for him to pretend. And that is why I don’t think he is pretending now.”

Alice returned to her champagne, taking a long pull from the bubbly liquid.

“I certainly hope so.”

“You will see, Lady Wakefield, if you give him a chance.”

Giving Loki a chance. Wasn’t that exactly what she’d been telling herself she shouldn’t do?

Thor shrugged and raised his own glass to her.

“Or he’ll disappoint you. That’s always a possibility with Loki, the bastard,” Thor said, tipping the glass to her then taking a long pull from it.

“Alice?” a different voice broke through Alice’s reverie.

Alice twisted in her chair only to find Thor’s younger brother himself standing behind where she and Thor were seated.

“Oh, h-hello Loki,” Alice said.

“Would you care to dance?” Loki asked, a courtly smile gracing his features.

Alice turned to Thor with a raised eyebrow.

“Were you just playing wingman this whole time?’ she asked.

“Wingman? I believe you are talking about the Falcon—Mr. Wilson,” Thor responded, confused.

“I don’t need my brother’s help to ask you to dance, Alice,” Loki said, the gentlemanly smile fading from his face. “You do not need to force yourself if you don’t want to.”

Alice glanced at Thor, who jerked his head towards Loki encouragingly. Alice swallowed and looked back up at Loki, setting her purse on the table and getting to her feet.

“No, no that’s ok. I like this song,” she said, recognizing the opening notes to Etta James’ _At Last_.

Loki held his hand out to her and she took it, allowing him to pull her gently towards the dance floor. Alice looked back over her shoulder at Thor, who shot her a big grin and thumbs up. Never happy in his brother’s shadow, Loki tugged a little more insistently on Alice’s hand, pulling her attention back to him as he gathered her into a classic dance hold.

Loki's fingers were warm through the thin fabric of Alice's dress, and his gentle but firm hold guided her through the steps. Not sure what to say, Alice let herself enjoy the feeling of moving in tandem with the music for a moment, and she closed her eyes in appreciation.

“It's been a little while since we last danced,” Loki said at last.

Alice opened her eyes and looked up at him, nodding slightly.

“Over a year,” she said, then hesitated a moment before continuing. “I've been wondering what you've been up to.”

“A bit of this, a bit of that,” Loki said unhelpfully.

“Helping Stephen and the Avengers?” Alice supplied, trying not to sound too hopeful.

Loki nodded in agreement.

“Yes, I've been trying to lend a hand when they find themselves out of their depth. I am far more experienced in the practice of magic than anyone else in this frankly backwater realm.”

Alice rolled her eyes, although she couldn't resist a swell of affection at his familiar bravado.

Loki's confident smirk faded somewhat, and he continued in a more serious tone.

“I have been on Midgard quite often recently, but my primary residence is now on Alfheim. I've been attempting to establish diplomatic relations with Jotunheim.”

Alice blinked up at him in surprise.

“Oh… you've been on Alfheim?”

“Yes, the realm of the light elves.”

“Oh, um, ok.”

Alice didn't really know how to respond. It was good that Loki had apparently discovered something meaningful to do, but she couldn't help but feel like he was listing out all the things he’d found more important than coming to see her. Even just once would have been enough.

Loki narrowed his eyes at Alice, expression focused as if he was trying to read her mind.

“You… you told me that you hope I find my purpose. Embracing and working for the good of my people feels… more like a purpose than anything else I have done in centuries. It also seemed like a good idea to throw myself into something unlikely to pit me against my brother,” he added with a wry smile.

That made sense. In actuality, this was the best thing that could have happened. She had thought it best to extricate herself from Loki, and it seemed like he'd been able to find a meaningful goal to apply his talents to. In her head this was all perfectly logical, but Alice couldn't help the dull hurt that filled her chest.

Loki peered at Alice, waiting in vain for her to fill the silence between them.

“...I also felt it best I respect your wishes and give you some space,” he said finally.

Alice swallowed, embarrassed but unsurprised that he had sussed out the source of her awkwardness. She forced a bright smile at him, willing her tense muscles to relax.

“That's wonderful, Loki. You’ve come a long way! Consulting for the Avengers and becoming a diplomat is a far cry from sitting around my apartment, reading books and watching mob movies.”

Loki smiled at her, a look of relief warming his features. He pulled her closer to him, fitting his head somewhere over her shoulder.

“I don't know, I like to think I accomplished rather a lot of character development watching those movies on your sofa.”

Alice chuckled as Etta James’ sultry voice drifted over the dance floor.

_For you are mine… at last._

The classic wedding song wound down, and Loki spun her twice to cap off the dance, her dress swirling around her.

Alice thought of asking if he wanted to dance the next number, but the DJ switched to a new pop track that had Loki visibly pained. Alice searched for a way to extend their conversation, feeling that it had only just started reaching a place where she could begin to reconcile her conflicted feeling. Looking out across the reception hall, her eyes caught on a photo booth by the wall.

“We don't have any pictures together, do we?” She asked Loki, who was rising from the theatrical bow he'd performed as the dance's finale.

“No, I don't think so.”

She grabbed Loki's hand and pulled him towards the booth.

“Let's take some now, then. If I'm not going to see you for another year I at least want a picture.”

Loki followed somewhat reluctantly, Alice having to fight against his body weight to get him to the black booth.

“I’m not particularly photogenic,” he protested lamely, and Alice almost snorted at his excuse. Loki knew _exactly_ how photogenic he was

“It's just a booth you take photos in with props and stuff. It'll be fun, I promise.”

She pulled him into the booth and sat down on the bench provided, picking out a jaunty feathered hat and an oversized pair of glasses to put on.

“The camera is right here,” she said to Loki, who'd obediently sat next to her but declined the props. “Just smile at the camera, and it will take five or six different photos in a row.”

Alice hit the start button, then sat back into her seat. She beamed for the camera, keeping her hands safely in her lap and leaning slightly away from Loki’s side in the cramped darkness. She could see Loki smiling next to her in the monitor, looking briefly bemused but soon catching on to how the camera booth worked. The camera clicked, and she tilted her head slightly, pursing her lips and making a silly face. Loki leaned over towards her and, to her surprised, kissed her on the cheek.

Alice pretended harder than she ever had before that the kiss had no effect on her, and just tilted her head again and grinned for the next photo. The camera clicked again, but this time Loki moved farther south, and she felt the cool skin of lips against her neck.

Despite inhaling sharply, Alice couldn’t find any air in her lungs. Loki’s kisses started out slow and soft, but as the camera clicked away, his lips parted and his tongue wetted the soft skin under her jaw. She had no idea how it ended up there, but Alice realized her hand was squeezing Loki’s thigh, and he shifted to pull her closer to him and gain better access. His teeth caught at her skin, not hurting, but pulling the skin together in the gentle threat of something either violent or exquisite.

Alice gasped and she felt rather than heard Loki’s deep chuckle in response. His hand reached across her stomach and grabbed her by the waist, pulling her onto his lap and turning her so he could reach the other side of her neck. Alice’s hands landed on Loki’s chest, and his body felt solid and firm beneath her fingers. The way his tongue worshipped her was mind-numbing.

Loki kissed his way up her neck and towards her ear, his hands pulling at her back in a wonderfully insistent way. The camera had long since stopped clicking, but Alice wasn’t paying any attention to that any more.

“I see you’re still wearing the ring,” Loki murmured into her ear, his voice sounding strangely loud and breathy at such close quarters.

Alice ordered herself to breath, and forced nonchalance.

“I guess I just got used to it,” she managed to get out.

Alice felt Loki shake his head, and could practically see him smirking into her shoulder.

“No, that’s not it,” he said, and one of his hands found the hand that bore the ring he’d enchanted. His tricky fingers located the ring and twisted it around on her ring finger playfully. “You’ve missed me. That’s why you’re wearing my ring.”

Something bitter and tense lodged itself in Alice’s throat. She turned her head away from him and leaned toward the photo booth wall, trying to put some space between them, though they were too entwined for her to be able to get off his lap.

“It’s not your ring. It’s Andy’s.”

Undeterred, Loki brought one of his hands up to the junction between Alice’s shoulder and chest, and his thumb began gently tracing the outline of her collarbone. Despite herself, Alice gasped at the ghosting contact.

“Perhaps, but you didn’t start wearing it until after I gave it to you.”

How dare he claim the engagement ring Andy had given her as _his_? Loki had kissed her once before, but it hadn’t been like this. Why was he doing this now? Alice thought back to when Andy had given her the ring—of how earnest, vulnerable, and selfless Andy had always been with her. It contrasted sharply with Loki’s possessive, conquering attitude, and tripped off every alarm bell she’d set up around her heart.

The thrill and passion that had only moments earlier been all-encompassing drained away, leaving only fear and suspicion in its wake.

“That’s not why I wear it,” Alice said, cooly removing her hand from his chest and using it to pull his fingers away from her collar. She leaned back, looking him right in the eyes.

“I wear it so you can never do what you did to me again.”

Loki’s smirk died on his face.

Swallowing thickly, Alice pushed herself out of Loki’s embrace and stood awkwardly in the cramped photo booth. She grabbed the two strips of photos that had already printed out from their tray and moved the curtain aside.

“I’m going to enjoy the rest of my friend’s wedding,” she said, looking back at Loki as she stepped out of the booth. “I’ll… see you later, I guess.”

Alice marched determinedly towards the dancefloor, discretely shoving the incriminating photos into a pocket dimension as she went, and found Latisha. She spent the rest of the evening dancing with enthusiasm and deliberate abandon. She did not see Loki again.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who’s back?! I hope y’all like this chapter. There’s not a ton of Loki in it, but I’m building to something. Bear with me!

A week had passed since Stephen and Christine’s wedding, and Alice’s right foot still ached from the deadly combination of dancing and high heels she’d encountered on the dance floor of their lavish reception. Along with her duties in the LA Sanctum, Alice still worked full time at a hospital in the Glendale area, which meant she was on her feet all day, exacerbating the pain from her over-enthusiastic celebrating. Her left foot, oddly enough, felt perfectly fine, but Alice knew this was because she’d cast a basic elvish muscle-soothing spell on it the day after the wedding. For the advancement of science, Alice had left her right foot untreated, and the satisfaction of knowing the scientific method supported the success of her treatment was just _barely_ worth the pain.

All week Alice itched to write up a thorough description of her study, but she had to settle for haphazard notetaking until Saturday, when she finally got a day off from work and was able to head to the Sanctum. Alice still took enormous pleasure in assisting patients via more traditional means as a nurse, but she found herself itching to increase her magic-aided healing abilities more and more.

Limping, Alice walked into the now-familiar craftsman, donning her robes and setting down her bag. She was so focused on getting to the laptop that contained all of her mystic arts-related research that she nearly missed the large, weathered tome sitting on the console table by the door. With a quick double-take, Alice turned back towards the book to examine it. On top of the dark, leather bound volume lay a note on heavy parchment paper written in elaborate, beautiful cursive.

_A peace offering._

_-Loki_

The corners of Alice’s mouth turned downward. Typical. Just typical. Sending a cryptic note instead of just being straightforward and facing-

Oh.

Alice’s ire faded as she set the note down and read the embossed lettering that titled the book.

_The Art of the Healer_

_By Eir_

Most of the literature Alice had been able to find about magic-aided healing had come from elvish texts or the works of ancient earthly healers, but what she wanted to learn about the most was Asgardian healing. The human healers of the past had done what they could, but much of their work was crude, and mixed a little too much with the occult for Alice’s comfort. Elvish healing was more developed, but elves were less similar to humans than the Asir, and their spells and methods were not simple to adapt to human usage. Eir had been mentioned multiple times in Alice’s studies as a master healer from the realm of Asgard, but up until now Alice had not found any of the woman’s actual research to study for herself.

Alice thumbed through the pages of the work, miraculously translated into English, and with each turn of the page her anger towards the giver faded. She knew she still needed to write up the results of her sore foot experiment now while it was fresh in her mind, but the possibility of significantly more interesting and impactful spells contained within the book in her hands was a seriously tempting distraction.

Alice leaned back in her chair, letting her head fall all the way over the backrest, and closed her eyes. She sucked a long stream of oxygen through her nose, held it for a moment, then exhaled. In her mind’s eye, she saw the last bit of resentment she held towards Loki slipping away, so she reached out and grabbed ahold of it. What he had done had been… not OK. If she was going to forgive him it wasn’t going to be because he’d bribed her with gifts.

For what felt like the millionth time, Alice went over the night of the wedding in her mind. His actions hadn’t really been out of line, in a lot of ways. He had approached her respectfully, they’d interacted, she’d given him positive feedback, and he had escalated their interaction until she’d told him to stop. That was… fine, right? But in her heart Alice knew something wasn’t perfectly fine about it.

Emotional context, that was the key of the thing. Loki had made her feel safe and comfortable, had _seduced_ her, even, and then abruptly reminded her of the intense violation of her personal agency he’d committed against her only a year earlier. The reminder had been a bitter wake-up call, ripping Alice from the feeling of security he’d built up around her, making her feel pathetic and powerless. Their evening together at the wedding had been like a play, condensing and dramatizing the events of their cohabitation in spirit if not in fact.

Loki had apologized for deceiving Alice, for controlling her and bending her will to suit his plans. She still remembered his exact words, even though so many other fantastic events competed for her memory of that overwhelming day.

_I am sorry for what I did. That is why I gave you this ring, even though I knew it would make you hate me._

He had apologized, but couldn’t he see that it wasn’t enough? He needed to show her, with his actions, that something like that would never happen again. And how could he possibly show her this change if he never even bothered to see her?

That was the thing, before the wedding Alice had decided that it didn’t much matter if she forgave Loki or not, because he clearly wasn’t troubling himself to stay in contact with her anyway. And then at the wedding, he’d made it seem like he did want her, like she did matter to him.

Opening her eyes, Alice stared at the wooden beams that bisected the creamy ceiling and groaned. She was so sick of this, so sick of running around in circles in her head. The simple fact of the matter was that regardless of how Loki felt, she didn’t matter enough to him for him to treat her the way that she deserved to be treated.

She sat up again and glared at the precious book. She’d still use it, of course, but she reserved the right to be annoyed by the recipient. Loki seemed to be trying, trying to treat her better, trying to show her that he cared about her.

She would give him credit for trying. She would forgive his latest infraction at the wedding. But forgiveness and trust were not the same thing.

Tearing her eyes from the book and her thoughts from the giver, Alice forced herself to continue on to her laptop, trying to motivate herself to write her notes as quickly and thoroughly as possible. She told herself that once she was done, she would read Eir’s book. She would read the book, and she wouldn’t think about Loki at all.

Thirty minutes later found Alice with her head ducked under her desk, measuring the difference in tenderness between her two feet. She was nearly done with her notes, but she wanted to fill in a little more detail on her descriptions of the relative achyness of her two appendages. She winced as she prodded her right foot, then jumped at the sound of the doorbell. Her head pounded against the underside of the solid wood desk and she cursed softly.

Scrambling out from under the desk, Alice hurried towards the door, her mind whirring with guesses as to who it could be. Alice reached the door and started to open it already composing a speech to politely turn away any proselytizing missionaries or fundraising boy scouts, but was surprised to find Natasha Romanov behind the front door. For perhaps the first time since Alice had met her, Natasha’s shoulders hunched forward and she avoided eye contact.

“Hi Alice. Can I come in?”

“Hey Natasha, long time no see, come on in,” Alice said, confused but eager to assist Natasha in whatever way she could.

Natasha entered the Sanctum, arms crossed, and she surveyed the converted living room as Alice shut the door.

“So this is the LA Sanctum, huh? Not quite as… elaborate as the one in New York.”

Alice laughed, leading Natasha to a worn, comfy leather sofa she’d found on Craigslist.

“Yeah, it’s definitely not as fancy as the old mansion, but I’m trying to give it some California charm.”

Natasha continued her perusal of the fruits of Alice’s efforts, her eyes roving from the craftsman-style rafters to the brick fireplace to the red rug covering the thin-slatted hardwood floors. Alice could sense something much heavier than Alice’s attempts at redecorating on the stoic spy’s mind, but she waited patiently for Natasha to choose to share her thoughts herself.

Alice went to get Natasha some water, and by the time she came back Natasha seemed ready to say whatever it was she had come to say. Natasha accepted the glass of water graciously, but only took a tiny sip before setting the water down on the coffee table next to her. Alice sat down on the chair across from her and folded her hands in her lap.

“So. How is your research on healing going?” Natasha asked, as casually as she was able with her intense demeanor.

“It’s… slow but promising. Stephen and the other members of the Sanctum practice Eldritch magic, which doesn’t have many applications to healing, so I’ve been looking into other schools of magic.”

Natasha’s mouth turned into a slight frown. Cautiously, Alice leaned forward.

“...Is there… do you know someone with health concerns I could help with?”

Shifting in her seat, Natasha twisted her mouth.

“My partner, Clint Barton. When Loki invaded New York, he took over Barton’s mind with the Mind Stone. Eventually, we were able to shake the mind control, but lately he’s been dealing with some… difficulties that I think might be related to the Mind Stone.”

Alice blinked. She’d heard of Clint Barton, or Hawkeye, before—he was one of the lower-profile Avengers, but she’d looked up all of them after she’d realized who Natasha was. She knew he was a marksman (she never knew why the papers always said “marksman” instead of just “archer”), and a special agent of SHIELD. She knew he was one of the older, more private members of the Avengers. That was about it

“What kind of difficulties?” Alice asked.

“He has dizzy bouts, periods of confusion, panic attacks. He’s seen some specialists, but they can’t find anything wrong. He… he told me that the fuzzy, confused feeling he gets reminds him of when he was under Loki’s control.”

“Well, if the doctors haven’t been able to find anything wrong-”

“-no doctor on this planet knows how to deal with the psychological impacts of being possessed by an Infinity Stone. You at least used to be a nurse, have used an Infinity Stone, and study healing.”

Alice pursed her lips nervously.

“I can… I can certainly _try_ , but I have only just started seeing success, and the methods I’ve found that seem to work haven’t been thoroughly tested.”

“I get that, but could you at least… look into it? I already talked to Strange and he doesn’t have a ton of ideas. _He_ recommended I talk with you,” Natasha said, growing impatient.

“But isn’t Eir of Asgard still alive and practicing in New Asgard? Surely she could help more than me.”

Natasha’s flat expression morphed into a grimace of true anger.

“I already spoke with her,” she said, her eyebrows descending as her frustration increased. “Apparently working on humans is ‘beyond the scope of her expertise,’ and ‘most of the required equipment was destroyed on Asgard,’ which to me is a whole pile of ‘my healing is for gods only you mortal peasant.’”

“Surely Thor would have-”

“-Thor pressed her, but she refused, and Thor didn’t want to… _command_ her. He’s still pretty new at this whole king thing, I guess,” Natasha commented dryly.

She leaned forward and leveled an intense look at Alice.

“You’re really the only option,” she said flatly.

It was then that Alice knew that she couldn’t refuse.

“I will try my best. Put me in contact with him, and I’ll do some research before we meet up,” she said.

“Great,” Natasha said, rising quickly to her feet and leaning forward to shake Alice’s hand, “I’ll be in touch.”

All business, Natasha headed straight for the door and saw herself out, turning her head only briefly to look back at Alice. Her face softened infinitesimally.

“Thank you.”

Alice just nodded in response, aware of Natasha’s discomfort and desire to extricate herself from the vulnerability-displaying situation.

Alice shut the door behind Natasha and returned to her desk, now even more anxious than ever to finish her notes so she could get on to more pressing matters. She rushed through the notes, knowing she was doing shoddy work but not much caring at this point. Not fifteen minutes later, she finished, and went immediately to Loki’s book.

She flipped through the index eagerly, scanning the headlines for subjects that might be relevant to Mr. Barton’s case. The next time she looked up from the tome, it was already two hours later and Alice was getting hungry. Deciding to get up and stretch her legs, Alice pushed back her chair and rose to her feet. She shut the book, causing the note Loki had written to flutter to the floor. Sighing, Alice leaned down to pick it up. She set it back on top of the book, and thought about the words Loki had penned.

_A peace offering._

With a groan, Alice sat back down on her chair and opened up her computer again, navigating to her email. She wasn’t really sure how to contact Loki directly, but she definitely didn’t want to have to go through Stephen, Thor, or even worse, Stark, to try and talk to him. Alice figured she’d just use the email address she had helped Loki set up back when he was still “Michael” and hope for the best.  
____________________________________________________________________________  
From: **Alice W**  
To: **Michael** Saturday 11:21 AM

_Dear Loki,_

_Consider your peace offering accepted._

_Alice_

Short. To the point. Alice pressed send before she could overthink it, then leaned back in her old computer chair with a sigh. Maybe he’d respond, maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe she wouldn’t see him again for another year. Or five years. Or a decade. Ten years was probably just like a month to him or something, right? Alice closed her eyes and told herself she didn’t care, then decided it was past time to go home.

Laptop closed and in her bag, Alice was ready to head out on some errands when her phone buzzed in her jeans pocket, startling her for a moment. She shifted awkwardly, reaching under her robes to pull her phone out and check the notification. She’d thought it might be Kathy, asking if she was coming over for dinner, but to her surprise her phone showed an incoming email from Loki.  
____________________________________________________________________________  
From: **Michael**  
To:  **Alice W** Saturday 11:26 AM

_Dear Alice,_

_I am glad. I would hate to think that I had lost my only ally._

_Loki_

Alice rolled her eyes, resisting the temptation to forget all of the baggage between them and act as though things were exactly as they had been when they’d shared her dingy apartment. She couldn’t afford to fall back into those patterns. She quickly typed out her response.

____________________________________________________________________________  
From: **Alice W**  
To:  **Michael** Saturday 11:28 AM

_Dear Loki,_

_Don’t be so dramatic. Also how did you respond so fast?_

_Alice_

Alice hit send, then gathered her things up into her bag to head out. She’d hung up her robes and was halfway to her car parked in front of the Sanctum when her phone buzzed again.

____________________________________________________________________________  
From: **Michael**  
To **Alice W** Saturday 11:35 AM

_Dear Alice,_

_I am not being dramatic, merely factual. Some might think my brother my ally, but brotherhood does not necessarily constitute alliance. Thor and I might actually be a prime example of this._

_As for my speedy response, the ability to operate a smartphone is one of the many ways in which I am different from my brother._

_I am glad you accepted my apology. I hope the book is useful to your research._

_Loki_

Alice read the email twice, leaned against her car door, then shut her phone screen off and shoved the device back into her pocket. Apology. Huh. He'd really called it an apology.

She wanted to respond—wanted to make some quip about exactly how long it had taken him to figure out the remote control, or some other playful reference to their shared history—but she couldn’t afford it. She forced herself to forget about the phone and drove home, focusing instead on what she’d make for dinner and if her mom would be joining her or not.

\---

Eir’s book was not the magic bullet Alice had been hoping for, but it did contain many promising ideas. Aesir healing felt a lot like advanced human medicine, enhanced and fine-tuned by mystic elements that humans had yet to master. It also, unfortunately, frequently required elaborate and delicate instruments both magically and technologically advanced, and as Natasha had mentioned during her last visit, any medical tools used by the Aesir had been destroyed along with Asgard during Ragnarok.

This meant that many of the more advanced techniques were not useful to Alice (or at least wouldn’t be useful for the next several decades), but thankfully Eir had also included chapters on more basic concepts and procedures. These were particularly helpful, as the Aesir understanding of physiology was significantly closer to the human understanding than the elvish texts that Alice had been looking through previously.

Eventually, Alice cobbled together a spell that she thought might work as a rough diagnostic procedure for mental/mystical maladies. She went over the theory extensively with Stephen and Wong, and they ran some tests on Harvey, the long-suffering orange and black cat that resided in the Bleecker Street Sanctum. The test seemed to work, and Stephen volunteered himself to be her first human subject/patient. After a long night of careful experimentation, Alice emerged from Bleecker Street feeling confident she had developed a workable procedure, and as an added bonus Stephen emerged completely unscathed. Finally, she felt ready to see Agent Barton.

The day of Agent Barton’s appointment at the Los Angeles Sanctum was hot and sweaty, a fact that Wong complained about constantly as they waited for the spy to arrive in the parlor. Alice pointed out that New York was only slightly cooler, and much more humid, but Wong was having none of her arguments—especially since the Los Angeles Sanctum didn’t have AC.

“You could at _least_ learn a cooling spell or something-” Wong said.

“-you know a cooling spell?” Alice interrupt excitedly, “because that would be _amazing_.”

Wong flustered for a moment.

“Well, not exactly, but you could at least build a window that opened onto the Himalayas, then crack it open when it starts to get muggy.”

“That’s… That’s actually an awesome idea. Do you think Latisha would be willing to help me with that?”

Wong looked like he was attempting to compose an objection, but Alice would never know what that objection was, because their expected patient finally arrived before he completed finished gathering his thoughts. Alice opened the door, and a lean, gritty-looking middle-aged man she recognized as Clint Barton stood next to Natasha, looking decidedly stoic.

“Hi, Mr. Barton, right? I’m Alice Wakefield. Come on it,” Alice said, ushering the two spies across the threshold.

Barton and Wong nodded to each other in recognition, and Alice led the group to the work room she’d prepared for the procedure, talking with a nervous energy as she headed down the hall. She had the distinct impression she was making up for the reticence of her three stoic companions, and between the four of them they were averaging a solid, normal conversation.

“-I’m so glad you could come today, Mr. Barton. I know it would probably be easier to meet at Bleecker Street, but you know I’ve done all of my research here and set up all of my equipment and all that, and you know how that is. And anyway, the weather is always so nice in California, isn’t it? Well, except today is kind of hot-”

Their arrival in the work room finally ended Alice’s constant stream of small talk, and Wong and Natasha took a seat while Barton perched gingerly on the wax-papered examination table. Alice recognized the familiar look in his eyes—a look she had found many a time in her adult male patients’ gazes—the look of surprise at ending up on the same cold wax seat upon which they’d dangled their legs as little boys.

“I’m really glad you could come today, Mr. Barton, and I hope you feel comfortable,” Alice started, calling on her very best bedside manners. She took a seat on the computer chair she’d rolled into the room in preparation for their meeting.

“I think today will likely be more of a diagnostic meeting. If it’s alright with you, we’ll mostly just talk about what happened, and what symptoms you’ve had since then. At the end I have a procedure I’d like to go through that should help me take a look at the mystic projection of your psyche, which I am hoping will exhibit some visible manifestations of any damage you may have suffered.”

Barton nodded passively, his expression betraying no concern or even skepticism at what must have sounded like supernatural gobbledegook.

“Um, sorry, but, you don’t have any questions about that?” Alice asked, looking at him over the clipboard she’d brought with her to take notes.

Barton shrugged a bit, holding his hands interlocked in his lap.

“I’ve dealt with a lot of supernatural gobbledegook in the past few years. At this point I just accept it,” he said.

His response left Alice slightly concerned that her patient might be less engaged in the healing process than would be ideal. She realized she’d need to inspire him, and help him think that a solution might truly be possible. Another layer of pressure settled itself on Alice’s shoulders, convincing her more than ever that she needed to give this her all.

“Well, hopefully soon this will be one piece of gobbledegook you won’t have to deal with any more,” she said with a smile.

Barton rallied admirably and returned her smile with a slight chuckle.

“Yeah, I hope so too.”

“Great!” Alice said brightly, uncapping her pen. “So, would you mind describing the incident you believe initiated your symptoms?”

“Sure,” Barton said, his features sobering once more. His legs dangled off of the examination table, and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs.

“So, when Loki attacked earth, he actually arrived several days before the invasion of New York to steal an Infinity Stone from SHIELD. I was there, defending the Stone, but instead of killing me, Loki used a different Infinity Stone to take control of my mind. For the next few days, I had no power over my own body. I had a… vague sense of awareness. I can remember some of what I was doing, but… It was like he’d pulled me out of my head and stuffed something else in.”

Alice nodded along with his comments and dutifully noted them down, ignoring the discomfort in her stomach at the subject matter. For all of her conflicted feelings about Loki, she’d never thought too hard about what he had done before he’d met her. Throughout her life Alice had made it a personal rule to give people the benefit of the doubt, and so it was simply by habit that she’d judged Loki’s behavior primarily by his actions while actually in her presence. Listening to Barton now, she wondered if maybe she shouldn’t have been so generous in applying that policy to invading alien demigods.

Alice pulled her thoughts back to the task at hand, and finished writing her notes. She looked up from her clipboard at Barton, who seemed somewhat numb, though it was clear the experience he was describing had shaken him deeply.

“And how were you returned to yourself?” she asked.

Barton allowed a small smirk to rise to his lips.

“A comrade of mine gave me a good old-fashioned manual reboot,” he said.

“I hit him really hard on the head,” Natasha chimed in from where she sat, arms crossed, by the door.

“And then you started feeling lingering effects?” Alice asked

“Not immediately. For several years I didn’t notice anything, but in the past year or two… It doesn’t happen very often, but every once in a while I will just sort of… leave myself. I’ll feel like a spectator, watching myself from the outside. And then there’s the headaches, the dizziness and confusion, and a handful of panic attacks…”

“That sounds pretty serious,” Alice said as she jotted down his symptoms. “I’d imagine it’s interfering with your life?”

Barton shrugged.

“I dunno, it doesn’t happen often enough to say that it’s interfering, but it’s certainly not pleasant.”

Doubt etched into the frown lines on Alice’s face as she noted down his response. Barton struck Alice as the kind of tough-it-out man who would understate most of the discomforts of life. If he had bothered to come see her for help, this was likely a bigger problem than he was admitting.

“Well, I can’t say I am certain that I can help you, but I will do my best,” Alice said, rising to her feet and setting her clipboard down on the desk.

“I was thinking today we could just do a basic physical evaluation, and then add on a sort of… metaphysical diagnostic procedure that will hopefully illuminate any magical damage your body or soul have sustained.”

Barton nodded in agreement, though Alice could sense some trepidation behind his affable gesture.

“I’ll admit I haven’t done this procedure too many times before, but I have tested it before and it shouldn’t affect you in any way. You just need to lie down and relax,” she said with a smile, hoping she didn’t sound creepy.

Baron took whatever nerves he’d been feeling and shoved them under a rock somewhere, once again regaining his look of cool confidence.

“Of course. I’m sure it will be fine,” he said.

Alice began the physical, and Barton obediently submitted to all of the typical weight measuring, blood pressure taking, and reflex checking that was like a second nature to Alice. As she’d expected, all of the standard checks turned out normal. It was finally time to try out her procedure.

Barton lay down on the examination table per Alice’s instructions, and she stood over him, holding scraps of paper with healing runes written on it in each of her hands. She moved her hands in the smooth, circular motions she’d studied in the elvish texts, and she could feel the dense, cool sensation of healing magic begin to coalesce around her. She directed the energy at Barton, starting at his feet and moving sedately up towards his head, and soon she was immersed in a vision of his being.

She wasn’t seeing his physical body—not exactly. As she sensed the pieces of flesh and spirit that composed Barton’s person, she could tell roughly what part of his body she was looking at, but it wasn’t like the physical examinations she’d done as a nurse. From his being she sensed energy, personality, flesh and sinew, and spirit—all of these things together and at once. Alice went through each component of the spy one by one, carefully examining his essence for any signs of tampering. She saw the regular wear and tear on his physical body—an achy knee, multiple healed fractures, that sort of thing—but she was more interested in the state of his mind.

Alice turned her full attention to Barton’s mental state, and once again she saw signs of normal, non-magical development. She sensed his immense compassion, his love for his family, and the years of mental responses and reactions he’d built into his brain through intense training. She also saw what she guessed to be the lingering effects of post-traumatic stress disorder, which while concerning, was clearly not supernatural in origin. Finally, behind the memories and the trauma and the instincts and the humor and the empathy, she saw it.

It wasn’t overpowering or intense, but it betrayed the since-departed presence of something overwhelming and all-encompassing. Like cracks left behind in the sidewalk by a massive earthquake, the vestiges of foreign, otherworldly power spoke of massive trauma and devastating invasion. If she had to describe it, she would say that she it was like seeing wisps of yellow and blue energy, floating around Barton’s psyche like a tiny but pernicious invasive species on an otherwise pristine island. The wisps of yellow and blue left behind in Barton’s mind felt different from the Time Stone, but they carried with them the same sense of timelessness and incomprehensibility. This was clearly the source of Barton’s troubling symptoms. Here were the scars of the intrusion of the Mind Stone.

Alice examined the wound for as long as possible, taking mental notes on possible treatment methods and avenues of approach, but the spell required a certain amount of energy to maintain, and eventually she could hold it no longer. She removed herself from the vision of Barton’s being, and her awareness of the physical world around her gradually returned. She began to feel sensation in her arms again, and she brought them down to her sides, almost collapsing into her computer chair as she was overtaken by a sudden wave of exhaustion.

“Are you alright?” Wong asked her, moving quickly to her side and placing a hand on her shoulder.

She looked up at him through weighted-down eyelids.

“Yes, I’m fine. Just a little tired is all.”

“What did you find?” Barton’s low voice sounded from the middle of the room.

Alice looked up and found him sitting on the table, arms tense as he grasped the edges of his seat, wrinkling the wax paper.

“I saw… I saw what you could call magical scarring. The energy felt somewhat similar to the Time Stone. I’m pretty certain what I saw was lingering damage from the Mind Stone.”

If possible, Barton’s gaze intensified.

“Is it possible to reverse the damage?”

Hesitating, Alice shifted in her seat.

“I… don’t want to give you any false hope, but I think so. All of this stuff I’ve been researching is very new to me, and as far as I know many of these techniques have never been adapted for use by humans before. That being said, now that we know how to look at the damage we should have a much better chance of being able to address it.”

A visible lump appeared in Barton’s throat. He lowered his gaze and swallowed thickly.

“That would be great.”

They discussed their next appointment, as well as coping mechanisms that Alice had read about in case Barton was faced with another panic attack or episode of dissociation. Finally, Alice led her guests back to the front door.

Originally Wong had planned to stay behind for a while after the appointment to discuss the results of the examination and make a game plan for research and future treatment. However, Alice’s hands trembled in exhaustion as she shut the door behind her gusts, and Wong’s keen eyes picked up on it immediately.

“We can meet next Monday to go over Agent Barton’s recovery, Alice. Why don’t you rest for now?” Wong said, the natural warmth he usually hid beneath his no-nonsense mask showing through.

Alice readily agreed, and Wong gathered his things and left through the portal to Bleecker Street. A short drive later and Alice was at home in her pajamas in bed, back leaned against her headboard and Eir’s book propped up against her knees. She was halfway through a rather promising chapter on mental illnesses when her phone chimed. She picked the phone up from her nightstand and swiped to unlock it.

____________________________________________________________________________  
From: **Michael**  
To:  **Alice W** Wednesday 4:15 PM

_Dear Alice,_

_Thank you for taking me home from the hospital that day. I know you may regret it now, but I hope you do not stop believing in goodness simply because I was unworthy of yours._

_Loki_

Alice stared at the phone in her hands, unblinking, for a long while. The stinging weight of tears burdened her eyes, and she eventually had to blink them away, rubbing at her lids with the back of her wrist to clean up the resulting mist. Alice set her phone back down on the nightstand, then placed the book next to it. She fully reclined in her bed and pulled her soft comforter around her as she stared up at the blank ceiling, her thoughts in confusion. She wanted desperately for Loki to be worthy of her forgiveness—for him to be worthy of her trust. But today Alice had seen what he had done to Clint Barton, a man who deserved none of the pain that Loki’s actions had caused. What did it say about Alice that she wanted so much to forgive a man like Loki?


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh I’m sorry for the long wait. It took me a little while to get my thoughts together, but I am committed to finishing this story and have an outline that I’m happy with. I am determined to finish before the movie comes out, because I want there to be at least a short window of time during which this story could conceivably exist within the MCU universe. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this chapter! I only proofread it once so let me know if you see any typos. Also happy Chinese New Year! 恭喜發財!

Healing the mind was complicated work. It was one thing to recognize that an Infinity Stone had scarred Clint Barton’s mind, but mending the effects of those wounds? That was another matter altogether. Thoughts of what she might possibly do to help—and how devastating the potential side-effects of failure—consumed Alice during the weeks following the sharpshooter’s first appointment. Alice scoured her small library, devouring any book that even mentioned mental health or the intersection between psychology and magic.

Unfortunately, her hours of research yielded insufficient results. Undeterred, Alice broadened her scope. She spoke with psychiatrists, she spoke with psychologists, she read the books that they recommended. She even studied up on the brain, ignoring the curious looks the sales clerk gave her when her haul of neurosurgery books was rung up at the used bookstore.

It was tedious work, but Alice felt like she was getting somewhere. Slowly.

After about a month of research that was fruitful, but not concrete enough for her to be able to go to Barton with any sort of plan, Alice decided she needed to face her fears and ask for help from a person she both admired and feared. She needed to ask for help from master healer of Asgard—Eir.

Alice spent her morning jog composing the call in her head. She would be straightforward and respectful. Businesslike, even. Plan of action set, Alice sprinted the last two blocks home, leaving all her worries behind, drank a full glass of water, then rushed to the shower. She’d need to go quickly if she was going to make her call before her shift at the hospital.

A mere fifteen minutes later Alice stood in her living room, cell phone in one hand and the number Natasha had given her in the other. She took a deep breath and punched in the numbers.

The phone only rang once before a chipper voice answered it.

“Hello, Darcy Lewis speaking.”

“Hi, um, this is Alice Wakefield. I was hoping to talk to you about setting up a meeting with Eir?”

“Ohhhh, you’re that lady Natasha told me about. Sure, I’ll talk to Thor and see what I can do.”

The woman on the other end of the line sounded surprisingly relaxed and casual for a person Natasha referred to as “the gateway to New Asgard.” She also sounded pretty young. Alice wondered what kind of resume could possibly lead someone to a position like that.

“That would be great. Um, sooner rather than later would be ideal. Do you know if Eir is likely to agree to meet with me?” Alice asked.

Darcy hummed on the other end of the line.

“Hm… probably? She has some stick-in-the-mud tendencies, but she’ll do it if Thor asks her to. And I’m sure Thor will want to help you out. He’s actually been wanting to talk to you.”

“Really?” Alice asked in surprise. Thor had been friendly the last time they’d met, but she couldn’t imagine what he might want to discuss with her. She’d barely talked to Loki in the past year, and that was honestly the only thing connecting her and Thor.

“Yeah. He kept saying he wanted to do it himself, said it was private or something. But you know him—can’t figure out mortal technology to save his life! That’s honestly why they hired me, you know. To handle the phones and emails. And the twitter account, of course. You should follow @NewAsgard, by the way! I keep it pretty lively if I do say so myself.”

“Oh! I’d heard he didn’t really like using the phone, but I didn’t realize it was that bad…”

“Oh yeah, hand him a phone and the God of Thunder is like a helpless little baby. But anyway, you probably would need to come to New Asgard anyway if you want to have a real conversation with Eir, and while you’re there you can meet up with Thor, too.”

Alice blinked, a little taken aback at how quickly this entire trip was coming together. The chaos and unpredictability of those months with Loki had taught Alice to value stability and loath change, and so she wasn’t exactly thrilled at the prospect of travelling to a distant nation composed of god-like beings. Still, she was determined to see this through.

“Ok, that sounds good. When should I plan to come?” she asked, hoping the plane tickets wouldn’t be too astronomically expensive.

“Are you free next week? I can book your tickets now,” Darcy said brightly.

“Oh, I wasn’t... You’ll get my tickets? Um, next week… I should be able to take some time off work I think.”

Since moving to LA, Alice had only been working part time at the hospital in order to reserve time for her Sanctum duties. She’d already planned to spend most of the next week away from the hospital, so this impromptu trip should work out nicely.

“Great! I’ll set you up to arrive Monday morning and leave on Thursday night. How does that sound?”

Alice flipped through her mental calendar and nodded, even though no one else was there to see it.

“Yep, I think that works.”

“Awesome! I’ll email you the details.”

“Ok. My email address is-”

“-Don’t worry, already got it.” Darcy said.

“Huh?” Alice asked, confused.

“Natasha, you know.”

“Oh,” Alice said, feeling a little dizzy at the rapid-fire pace of the conversation.

“Ok, great! Let’s get this thing going!”

Alice could hear the clack clack of rapid keystrokes.

“Wow, you pulled this together so quickly,” Alice said, chuckling, “when I woke up this morning I didn’t imagine I’d go to sleep with tickets to Asgard in my inbox.”

“Well Natasha told me a little bit about what you’re working on, and I wanted to help. Clint’s a good guy. We all are rooting for him to get better,” Darcy said, genuine warmth filling her voice.

Alice swallowed thickly, becoming once again aware of how many hopes were being staked on her ability to fix whatever was wrong with Clint Barton.

“I’ll do my best.”

\---

Less than a week later, Alice found herself dragging her suitcase down the terminal at New Asgard International Airport, feeling haggard and dead inside. As she came down the elevator, a woman at the bottom who looked to be in her late twenties with long, curly brown hair looked up from her phone and waved.

“Alice! Hey Alice!”

Alice stumbled towards the woman and accepted the hand outstretched towards her, shaking it with her clammy fingers.

“I’m Darcy, we spoke on the phone.”

“Nice to meet you in person,” Alice said.

“Great! Ok, so let’s head to the palace, get you some breakfast, and then get you to see Thor,” she said, shoving her phone in her pocket and turning towards the exit.

A dizzying half hour later and Alice found herself in what she imagined to be Thor’s receiving room, a bagel in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. She was seated on a gilt metal chair that looked somehow both futuristic and medieval, matching the gleaming room surrounding her. The same soaring curves and sharp angles she’d seen in the chaos of the re-forming Old Asgard composed the elegant study, and Alice could imagine how Thor’s homeland must have looked in its full glory.

Before long, the heavy door behind Alice opened and Thor marched into the room, setting Mjolnir down on the table and taking the seat across from Alice.

“Lady Wakefield, it is good to see you again!” he said enthusiastically.

Alice awkwardly set her coffee and bagel on the intricately carved table and stood, stretching out her hand towards Thor. He seems somewhat surprised by the gesture, but took her hand anyway and shook it vigorously.

“It’s good to see you too,” Alice said, not commenting on the unusual appellation, “Darcy said you wanted to talk to me?”

Thor nodded his head solemnly.

“It’s about Loki,” he said, his voice rumbling in its lower registers.

Alice almost rolled her eyes. She should have known.

“I don’t know if there’s much I can do to help. I’ve barely talked to him since Asgard,” Alice said.

He _had_ sucked on her neck in a photo booth fairly recently, but surely that wasn’t relevant information.

“I know. Loki has actually been very forthcoming regarding his whereabouts and activities since that catastrophe with the Time Stone. I know he has been steering clear of you. I’m coming to you more for your perspective on some of his recent behavior.”

“What has he been doing?” Alice asked, a little warily. She could feel Loki’s gravitational pull sucking her back into all of his nonsense, and she wasn’t quite sure she was ready to be in his orbit again.

Thor frowned and eyed a miniature Mjolnir paperweight on his table. He unconsciously reached out for the paperweight and fiddled with it as he spoke.

“My brother has always been… complicated.”

Alice stifled a snort at the understatement. Thor looked up and caught her eye, the corner of his mouth lifting in a wry smile.

“I see you understand my meaning.”

He set the paperweight down and leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers together in his lap.

“I have long since grown accustomed to Loki’s changeable nature, but lately he has been different. He’s been angrier, more volatile. I have never been particularly good at predicting his behavior, but now I sometimes feel I hardly know him at all. And Loki… He’s always had a temper, but…”

Thor leaned forward, a fond smile rising to his lips.

“When we were boys, our friend Sif teased Loki for his dark hair. In retaliation, he used his magic to dye her hair black permanently. That was _five years later_.”

Thor laughed to himself at the story, shaking his head before continuing.

“Loki’s anger was the seething kind, the kind that watches and waits for the right opportunity. Now everything is different. Now, at the slightest provocation, he explodes.”

Alice’s brow furrowed as she listened to Thor’s explanation, her concern growing. Thor was right—the Loki he was describing didn’t seem like the one who had occupied her spare bedroom in Brooklyn.

“That… does sound odd. I’m not sure how I can help, though.”

Thor let out a heavy sigh.

“I don’t know. I just feel that you have seen a side to him that few have. I… hoped that you might have some insight that I do not.”

Alice picked up her coffee and took a long pull from it, more to give her some time to think than anything else, then set the coffee back down.

“I don’t know… He sometimes got upset when we lived together, but not in the way you’re describing. Mostly I think… if he’s struggling with something he probably doesn’t have anyone to talk to about it-” Alice paused as she saw Thor wince at the statement.

“-I mean besides _you_ , of course.”

“No, no,” Thor said, holding up a hand. “I have accepted that it has been a long time since Loki felt he could confide in me.”

Grimacing slightly at her faux pas, Alice forged bravely ahead.

“What I meant to say is, I don’t think he has too many friends. If he was struggling with something I don’t know of anyone he would be able to talk to about it.”

Thor nodded his head solemnly.

“Loki has never really been one for _friends_ , but in our youth he could always find a sympathetic ear in our mother. I fear that since she has left us for the halls of Valhalla, he no longer has that outlet.”

Memories of Loki’s few descriptions of his family flashed through Alice’s mind. He had always harbored intense bitterness towards his brother and father, but had never had a single harsh word to say about Frigga. He had mentioned her rarely, but Alice was under the impression that this was more due to how precious and carefully guarded her memory was to him than apathy.

“Are there any in New Asgard who might be able to do that for him?” Alice asked.

Thor shook his head.

“I don’t think so… Loki’s relationship with the Aesir is difficult to understand. Since his rescue of the refugees of Ragnarok, and his attempt on Thanos’s life, many among us have come to see him as a hero of sorts. And yet, the memory of his past deceptions lingers, along with prejudice against his true heritage as a jotun. He is _respected_ , but not _trusted_.”

A far off look occupied Thor’s gaze, and he sighed.

“And beyond that, even if someone tried to reach out to Loki, I do not think he would accept it. He views sentiment as a weakness. Even if someone were to reach out to Loki in friendship, he is likely to view those overtures with suspicion.”

Alice fixed her eyes on the desk in front of her, avoiding Thor’s searching look. She knew what Thor was saying was true, with perhaps one exception. She knew, with about as much certainty as you could ever have about Loki, that he would be receptive if she tried to reach out to him.

Alice swallowed thickly, and her gaze hardened. It wasn’t her job to fix Loki. She looked back up at Thor, and could see similar thoughts had passed through his mind.

“Well. Loki has reached out to me occasionally. I will let you know if I hear anything from him,” she said.

Thor nodded, seeming genuinely grateful despite Alice’s obvious reluctance to get too involved.

“Thank you, Lady Wakefield. And now, I suppose you’ll want to see Eir?” Thor said, suddenly filled with new energy.

He rose from his seat and gestured for Alice to follow him. They left the large, ornate building that pre-coffee Alice hadn’t really noticed and took a remarkably normal-looking car further into the shining town (not quite large enough to be called a city yet) of New Asgard.

It was remarkable how much the settlement had grown in the few years since the Aesir had fled their homeland. The fact that they had an airport at all was a testament to that growth. The town was small, but beautiful—each home built with that same futuristic-Scandinavian aesthetic that Alice had noted in Thor’s office. The homes also all looked as if they were made of metal, which was odd considering how cold it go this far north. Alice supposed they must have some kind of magical heating system that kept their tongues from sticking to the walls.

They eventually reached a large building near the center of town, and though it didn’t have any of the typical markers of a human hospital, Alice’s nursing instincts recognized it as a place of healing instantly. Thor escorted Alice inside and into a sterile office wherein sat a woman in a sleek blue robe. She had lovely auburn hair piled up on hear in a heart-shaped bouffant that reminded Alice of Elizabeth I, and a face whose classic features seemed both old and young at the same time. She stood and bowed upon Thor’s entrance.

“Your Majesty,” she said.

“Eir,” Thor responded, gesturing for her to rise. “This is Alice Wakefield. She is a healer of this realm, and has been treating one of my companions who was injured during our fight against Thanos.”

Thor’s interpretation of Loki’s invasion as part of the “fight against Thanos” surprised Alice, but she found herself appreciating his framing.

“I was hoping to receive some guidance from you as to how to best treat him,” Alice said. “I’ve read some of your research and it has been so helpful.”

Eir nodded graciously.

“Yes, I have heard for your efforts. It would be my pleasure to assist you.”

Thor left them to it, and Alice spent the rest of the day with Eir, explaining the problem she was facing and the techniques she was considering to approach the healing. Despite her unfailing politeness, initially Alice could sense Eir’s cool demeanor and distaste for her mortal companion. Alice stubbornly forged ahead, determined to prove herself, and soon enough Eir lost herself in the discussion and became increasingly excited and engaged. It was clear that Eir was truly passionate about her art, and she was unable to resist an honest, in-depth conversation about her life’s work with an interested and knowledgeable partner.

By the end of the day, Alice and Eir had settled on a plan for Barton’s treatment. Many details remained to be sorted out, but Alice left Eir’s office with a clear idea of how to proceed, and as exhausted as she was, she was pleased. They would spend the following days hammering out the details, but this was a good start, and Eir had also left her with a genuine smile and promises that even after she left New Asgard, Eir would make herself available to help. Things were looking up.

Darcy picked Alice up and drove her to a shiny new hotel in the heart of the city—owned and operated by humans, thank goodness. As beautiful and remarkable as New Asgard was, Alice was feeling completely drained and didn’t want to have to worry about navigating the social mores of lodging at an Aesir inn.

Alice fumbled with her key card and eventually opened her door on the seventh floor, then expended the last vestiges of her energy dragging her rolling suitcase into the darkened room.

“You spoke with my brother.”

Alice’s heart stopped at the icy voice emanating from the darkened hotel room. She panicked, dropping her suitcase and her bag in her haste to switch on the lights. The single dim light immediately inside the door illuminated the room just enough to reveal Loki lounging on an armchair in the living room of Alice’s suite. His posture was relaxed, but his body emanated tension.

“What are you doing here?” Alice asked, trying desperately to calm her racing heartbeat.

“Apparently you didn’t see any reason to visit me, so I took it upon myself to find you,” Loki said, his voice laced with a bitterness that was becoming increasingly familiar to Alice.

Alice left her bags on the floor by the door and marched into the room, believing that Loki would not harm her. She felt her frustration mounting, but worked to hold it in, Thor’s words about Loki’s volatile temper warning her that patience and caution were advisable.

“I’m sorry, Loki, I did not know you were in New Asgard. You told me you spend most of your time in Jotunheim now,” she said, taking a moment to locate the bedside lamp to provide the room with a little more light. Why did hotel rooms always have lamps instead of overhead lights?

Loki sat forward in the chair, his features hardening. He was wearing the black, green, and gold leather tunic and coat she’d seen him wear before, though now he was ornamented with several golden rings and bracelets.

“That’s beside the point,” he said dismissively, even though it was the only point he’d made so far. “You spoke with Thor today. About me.”

There was a clear accusation in his tone, although Alice wasn’t quite sure what she’d done wrong. She moved back towards Loki, leaning against the end of the bed and crossing her arms across her chest.

“Yes, that’s true. I spoke with Thor when I arrived and we talked a little about you.”

Loki rose to his feet, radiating anger.

“So you don’t even deny it!”

Alice unconsciously leaned away from Loki and pulled her arms tighter against her torso.

“I don’t see the problem here,” she said stubbornly.

“The _problem_ ,” Loki practically spat, “is that you were supposed to be _my ally_. You were supposed to be _my friend_ , and then you and Thor meet up to whisper together about my _failings_. To conspire together about how to _deal_ with me.”

With each word Loki stalked closer to Alice, his head tipped forward to give his eyes a menacing angle. Alice tried to lean further away from him, but the bed was in the way, so she just glared right back into his face, refusing to be cowed.

“Thor is worried about you because he cares about you. He talked to me because he wants to help you, but he doesn’t know what to do,” she said.

Loki scoffed, rolling his eyes and turning away from Alice. He took several steps away from her, his movements filled with nervous energy.

“As if _Thor_ has ever wanted to _help me_.”

“What about when he came to Asgard to keep you from killing yourself? What about when he refused to help Dr. Strange save all those who disappeared in The Snap unless you were saved too?” Alice challenged, rising from the bed until she was fully upright.

“Oh!” Loki said, rounding on Alice and getting right in her face, his expression an ugly scar. “Oh, I see how it is. Thor, of course, can do no wrong. Thor is the one you care about. I knew as soon as you met him I would be _nothing_.”

“Loki, what are you _talking_ about? I barely even know Thor!”

A sound almost like a snarl erupted from Loki’s throat, and he bared his teeth in anger, the motion distorting his delicate features into an ugly grimace.

“I am _talking_ about how over and over again, like a _fool_ , I show that I care about you. And over and over again you reject me.”

Alice’s jaw dropped.

“You care about me? When was I supposed to figure that out?” she demanded.

“How about when I _humiliated_ myself at that idiotic wizard’s wedding, and you _ignored_ me? Or when I trusted you with my true identity, and you told me to _leave_?”

Alice’s memories of their conversation following the reveal of Loki’s identity was still muddled, so she did not know how to respond to that accusation. The first, however, she recollected with perfect clarity.

“You mean what you did at the wedding was supposed to show me that you cared about me? Loki, you have lied to me and manipulated me on multiple occasions. You didn’t explain anything to me, either before or after, so I just thought you were messing with me. What other conclusion could I have come to?”

Loki’s face was such a chaotic swirl of anger, hurt, and vulnerability it was hard to look at. For a long time now Alice had known that Loki’s cool bearing was just a facade—an imperfect lid covering a vast pool of bubbling rage—but before he had done a decent job of keeping that emotion hidden away. Now, it was as if his well-forged mask had been eaten away by the caustic power of his ire, and all of that hateful energy was bubbling over.

“You should have… you should have _known_ ,” Loki sputtered. “I thought you understood me, but you’re just like everyone else. Everyone else who thought they could deal with me, but eventually gave up!”

Loki shouted the last sentence, and with the force of his anger, expelled the last of his emotions. He staggered back towards the armchair and collapsed into it, looking utterly spent, and buried his face in his hands. Alice felt an almost irresistible urge to go to him, to comfort him, but she held herself back.

“I just… I’m so _angry_ all the time. It’s _so hard_. I’m trying _so hard_ to be… to be ‘good’, or at least what other people seem to think ‘good’ means. It’s exhausting. And limiting myself based off of what other people think… It is completely contrary to my nature. I am tired, and I am angry, and no matter what I do, my rage only seems to grow.”

Loki’s voice trailed off, losing volume the longer he spoke. By the time he finished, Alice had had to take several steps towards him to make out what he was saying. He looked defeated—heart, body, and soul, and it tore at Alice’s insides. She wanted so badly to help him, but wasn’t sure whether going to him or leaving him would do him the most good. Before she was able to make up her mind, the hotel door opened once more.

Startled, Alice looked behind her to see a tall man entering her suite. Alice was certain she had never met him before, as she definitely would have remembered meeting a man with blue skin and red eyes.

“Your Majesty, we should be leaving,” the man said in a low, calm voice.

Loki looked up from his hands, his eyes flashing.

“Last time I checked, Thrym, _you_ serve _me_.”

The man’s face did not change. He was wearing fine clothing that looked similar in style to the Aesir, but Alice concluded by the unique shade of his skin that he must be a frost giant. Why he was not several feet taller remained a mystery.

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Thrym said, bowing low, “but we would not want to do anything to jeopardize the future of the treaty.”

For a moment, Loki looked as if he were about to object again, but his eyes darted to Alice, then back to Thrym, and he stood.

“Of course you are right.”

He straightened out his jacket and composed himself, then walked towards the other jotun (servant?). As he passed Alice, he nodded in her direction.

“Lady Wakefield, my apologies for intruding upon your lodgings. It will not happen again,” he said.

The formal address was surely meant to lend the apology more weight, but it served only to sting Alice. She also sincerely doubted that Loki would never sneak into her house again. It was kind of his thing.

Loki continued past her, but before he exited, Thrym moved towards Alice and bowed to her.

“Lady Wakefield, I am Loki’s advisor, Thrym. I have heard much about you and hope to later meet you under more,” he coughed, glancing at Loki for a moment, “ _appropriate_ circumstances.”

“Oh! Well, it was nice to meet you as well,” Alice said, a little at a loss over the whole situation.

She was grateful for Thrym’s arrival, but also concerned that Loki wasn’t the only person who could barge into her hotel room unannounced. She would have to have words with management.

Thrym nodded to her once more, then followed Loki out the door. Loki didn’t look back.

As soon as they left, Alice locked all available locks on the door, then returned to her bed, collapsing onto it, what little energy she’d had left after meeting with Eir evaporated. She forced herself to call the front desk and had a long conversation with them about safety, then texted Darcy about the intrusion. Before the night was over, she was picked up and moved to the Palace, where Thor thought he could better defend her privacy.

“We’d wanted to give you some space away from the Aesir—they can be an overwhelming bunch,” explained Darcy as they drove over.

Alice appreciated the sentiment, but it seemed a human hotel wouldn’t be quite enough to guarantee her some space from Loki.

\---

Alice didn’t see Loki again during her trip to New Asgard. Each day she went to Eir, and each day they spent hour after hour discussing, planning, theorizing, and performing what tests they could to prepare for Barton’s treatment. It was somehow both draining and invigorating at the same time, and Alice had rarely felt so alive.

There were few to no options regarding human testing of the techniques Eir and Alice developed together, but by the end of the week Alice felt about as confident as she could that the extraction of the influence of the Mind Stone would work. She sent an excited email to Barton and Natasha, asking them when they would like to perform the procedure, and packed her bags to return home.

Thor accompanied her and Darcy to the airport, which touched Alice. She hadn’t spent much time with the God of Thunder during her visit, but he had gone out of his way to make sure she was comfortable and to show that she was an honored guest. As they drove, with Thor humorously squished into the back seat, the conversation inevitably turned back to Loki.

“-And Lady Wakefield, I want to apologize once again for my brother’s behavior,” Thor said.

Alice waved off his apology.

“It’s not your fault. Loki is responsible for his own actions and... Honestly if he wants to cause mischief I don’t think anyone can really stop him. At least not completely.”

“Yes, I suppose that is true. I tried to stop him, when he was invading your New York. We fought on the top of the Man of Iron’s tower, and I begged him to see reason. There was a moment there, when his eyes seemed clear. When it felt as though he truly saw for the first time the carnage around him. Then the moment passed, and he stabbed me,” Thor said, chuckling at the last bit though Alice saw no humor in it.

Alice nodded soberly, her spirits dampened by the subject matter. Loki may have snuck into her room several nights earlier, but she had never felt in any serious danger. It had felt more like an obnoxious and invasive intrusion than a genuine threat to her life. Alice didn’t like being reminded that Loki was capable of much more heinous crimes than that.

“He said that he’s trying to change. Do you think he really is? If so, then why does he seem even angrier than before?” Alice asked.

Thor shook his head sadly.

“I know not. Since his failed attempt at restoring Asgard, he has been helpful. He has assisted us in New Asgard, as well as your SHIELD organization, on numerous occasions without any subterfuge. He has even made great strides in his dealings with the frost giants. And yet, he seems less and less in control of himself. It is almost as if… the treacherous, slippery bastard I know and love disappears, and all that is left is this mad rage.”

Alice nodded, not knowing quite how to respond to Thor’s words. Loki was difficult, resentful, and deceptive, but he was also brilliant, funny, and tenacious. Alice would always love that part of Loki, even when it drove her mad, but the person she’d seen in her hotel room several nights before bore less resemblance to the person that she’d known than she’d like. It was more than a little heartbreaking.

Soon enough Alice was on the plane back to Los Angeles, lying peacefully in a recliner seat for the long flight (Darcy had sprung for a first-class seat, for which Alice was eternally grateful). Despite the comfort of her seat, something niggled at the back of Alice’s mind, preventing her from falling asleep completely. Something about her conversation with Thor in the car bothered her, although she could not quite put her finger on it. Eventually, she fell into a fitful sleep, her dreams full of visions of Thor and Loki, fighting on top Stark Tower; of Barton, eyes cloudy and detached, fighting against his own allies; of Loki ordering his alien army about with a staff gleaming with the power of the Mind Stone.

“We are now starting our final descent into Los Angeles. Please ensure that your seat backs and tray tables are in their full upright position, and that all your belongings are safely stowed for landing.”

The PA announcement roused Alice from her dream, and she robotically followed the air hostess’ instructions, her mind still replaying the surreal images from her dream. As the plane descended and her ears popped, her mind finally connected the dots between her stray thoughts, and she nearly gasped at her conclusion. She couldn’t be sure, and she immediately forced herself to temper her expectations, but the thought of a possible path forward thrilled her. As soon as she landed, Alice pulled out her phone and composed an email.

____________________________________________________________________________  
From: **Alice W**  
To: **Michael** Thursday 10:12 PM

_Dear Loki,_

_I think I know of a way I can help you. Would you be willing to come see me some time in the next few weeks? Even if you’re mad at me, please please come._

_-Alice_


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I’ll be honest. I took a break from this story to write something else. BUT! My other story is done now and I’m feeling refreshed and ready to do this right! Satisfying conclusions, here we come! Thank you all for your patience. I love The Return and I’m determined to finish strong! Per my plan there are just two more chapters :)

The first several hours after sending the email were the hardest. Alice followed the same monotonous ritual over and over again as she waited: she checked her phone, scolded herself for checking her phone, then forced herself to do something else for as long as possible before checking it again. She usually lasted about five minutes.

After several hours of torture, Alice finally found herself caught up in a serious incident at work that, while unfortunate for the child with appendicitis, at least successfully distracted Alice from Loki’s potential response. In the end, his response didn’t come that first day at all. Or the second day. Or the third. After several weeks, Alice stopped checking her email. It was better to focus on Agent Barton’s upcoming procedure, anyway.

Alice performed the extraction in the New York Sanctum. Stephen and Leticia watched on, with Wong serving as her primary assistant. Eir was not present, but she helped plan and design every part of the procedure.

It was a delicate process. Alice performed the spell that allowed her to see the metaphysical structure of Barton’s mind, but this time instead of simply observing, she began pulling the sickly yellow tumor of the Mind Stone’s influence out, bit by bit.

The power of the stone was naturally inclined to spread, to grow its influence and dominion, so Alice created empty artificial pockets of consciousness that the power would be drawn to. As she hovered these pockets of consciousness over Barton’s mind, the stone’s influence gradually leaked out of his brain and into the waiting receptacles, which Alice then sealed and threw out into the ether of a pocket dimension. This process only worked for small bits of damage at a time, so she performed the task over and over again, gradually chipping away at the scars on Barton’s mind.

It took hours, but eventually the extraction was complete. Wong congratulated Alice on a job well done, but Alice remained white-knuckled until Barton emerged from his magic-induced sleep and blinked up at her.

“Is… is it done?” he asked groggily.

“Yes. How do you feel?”

“ _Tired_.”

“You may have been asleep, but your mind has been through a lot in the past few hours. You should get as much rest as possible.”

Barton sat up and shook his head like he was trying to get water out of his ear.

“Ok. I’ll do that.”

“Do you feel any different?” Latisha prodded gently.

Barton squinted in concentration.

“Everything is still so fuzzy, it’s hard to say. But I think so? I feel… lighter.”

It would be weeks—maybe months—before they could truly understand if the procedure had been a success, but Barton’s slurred words still lifted an enormous weight off of Alice’s chest.

She helped him through a couple of minor administrative tasks to be done before he checked out, than Dr. Strange escorted him back to where he’d be recovering in Stark Tower. Only time would tell if the Mind Stone’s insidious hold was truly gone.

\---

After a week of observation, Strange cleared Barton to go home with his family. Eager to see how he was holding up a week into his recovery, Alice met him at Stark Tower for yet another post-procedure interview as he packed up his things.

“Thanks again for talking with me, Agent Barton This is a brand new methodology we’re trying, so I hope you don’t mind the endless tests and questions.”

Barton just shrugged as he shoved a laptop into his bags.

“You helped me when no one else could. It’s the least I could do.”

Alice smiled faintly, looking back down at her notes.

“How are your symptoms?”

“So, the headaches have diminished. I’d say they’re pretty much gone. I haven’t had a single headache this past week.” He looked up from his backpack and crossed his fingers, “Here’s hoping that sticks.”

“So… no side effects? No lingering symptoms?”

“Not that I can tell. I really feel just like I did before the Mind Stone. It’s… it’s better than I let myself hope for.”

Alice’s soft smile morphed into a full-blown grin.

“I’m so glad! Of course, we won’t know the long-term effects for a while, but this is a promising start.”

She went through her list of questions, eager to let Barton get home to his wife and kids, and all of his answers were blessedly positive. It almost made Alice nervous. Things never went this smoothly, after all. Still, she let herself be optimistic and believe that the procedure had truly been that successful. They wrapped up, and Barton gave her a warm handshake, thanking her sincerely for her help. Alice got up to leave, but as soon as she turned towards the door, she turned on her heal back towards the marksman.

“Um, Barton, do you mind one more question?”

“‘Course not.”

“Do you think… Do you think it’s possible that Loki was also affected by the Mind Stone?”

Barton’s expression darkened.

“It’s possible,” he said shortly.

Alice hesitated a moment, starting to say something before pausing to rethink.

“You’re the best resource we have for understanding the damaging effects of the Mind Stone, so I thought you might be in the best position to judge.”

Barton frowned, then ran a hand through his short hair with a sigh.

“I’ve been on a couple of missions with Loki in the past year. When forced, you know? I… I could see that he might have been damaged by the Mind Stone. It makes you… lose yourself, if that makes any sense, and Loki’s extreme mood swings could be a result of that damage. Though I hate to give that bastard any kind of excuse.”

Alice nodded slowly.

“I see. Thank you.”

Barton’s eyes had been roving around the room, but they suddenly refocused on Alice with the intensity of a trained sniper.

“I’m saying it’s a _possibility_. But… be careful how much sympathy you spare for someone like him.”

“I will.”

A sense of deja vu dogged Alice’s step as she walked out of Barton’s room and shut the door softly behind her.

\---

The day after her interview with Barton, he finally responded. The message waited for her in her inbox when she woke up.  
____________________________________________________________________________  
From: **Michael**  
To: **me** Friday 6:02 AM

_Dear Alice,_

_I will come to see you as soon as is convenient. Today?_

_-Loki_

Alice’s eyebrows rose in surprise and her stomach was immediately invaded by butterflies. She quickly typed out a response before she could think better of it.

____________________________________________________________________________  
From: **Alice W**  
To: **Michael** Friday 7:10 AM

_Dear Loki,_

_Yes, today works. Anytime. Thank you._

_-Alice_

Not five minutes later, he was knocking on her door.

Alice opened the front door a flustered mess, still in her pajamas and half-disbelieving he’d finally accepted her offer.

Loki stood in the door frame in a sharp black suit, blinking down at her plaid pajama bottoms and the old 5k race t-shirt she slept in.

“Ah. Perhaps I arrived too quickly.”

“Um, no, no, I’m just glad you came,” Alice said, ushering him inside like he was a skittish rabbit she’d finally managed to corrale back into its hutch.

Loki obediently followed after her, looking around Alice’s living room in bald curiosity as he allowed himself to be led to the armchair in the corner—his armchair that she’d brought all the way from New York.

“I heard about Barton,” Loki said, a little distractedly.

Alice sat down on the sofa across from Loki, and for a moment she was taken back to her tiny Brooklyn apartment, back when she was just Alice the nurse and he was just Michael the invalid.

“You didn’t want to talk to me until you knew it would work?”

Loki nodded, either missing or ignoring the shade of hurt that entered Alice’s voice.

“I didn’t want to get my hopes up.”

“And now?” Alice asked, leaning forward.

Loki smiled at her.

“What do I have to lose?”

There was an unfamiliar sense of hopelessness to that familiar smirk that softened Alice’s heart. She moved to sit cross-legged on the couch and folded her hands in her lap.

“You are aware of my theory?”

“I assume you believe that the Mind Stone damaged my mind as I wielded it, and that its lingering effects are causing my overall… inability to control my emotions.”

Alice nodded.

“That’s the theory, though your symptoms aren’t quite the same as Agent Barton’s. I’ll need to, um, see into your mind to know if my guess is right.”

Loki’s features hardened.

“See into my mind? How would you do such a thing?”

“It’s a technique I developed myself. A combination of some elven meditation techniques and Aesir mind melding,” Alice said, getting to her feet and pulling a thick binder of notes she kept from her bookshelf. She opened it to the main entry on the technique and handed it to Loki. He scanned the contents intently, his brow furrowing on occasion and his foot tapping nervously.

After several minutes of study, he looked up.

“Impressive. You are quite talented.”

Alice didn’t flush like she would have in the past, only nodding at the compliment.

“I… can’t allow this, though.”

Alice jerked backwards as if struck. Almost instantly, she scolded herself. She should have known better than to get her hopes up.

“What? Why?” she demanded.

Loki shut the binder and set it down on the end table next to the chair.

“This spell you propose—it will let you see _everything_. Can’t you see why that’s not possible?”

“But Loki, this is a chance to be _healed_. I will be able to see into your unguarded mind, it’s true. But I swear I will not pry into anything unaffected by the Mind Stone.’

“You can try to avoid, but it will be right there. That’s like promising to only see one character in a play.”

Alice huffed, swallowing angry words, and fought back the tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. She was _so close_.

She got to her feet and moved over to where Loki sat tensely in the armchair. She crouched down next to him and took his hand carefully in hers.

“Loki. Whatever I see, I will not judge you for it.”

Loki turned his head from her, his hard stare quavering slightly. Alice squeezed his hand.

“Do you trust me?”

Loki screwed his eyes shut, and his grip on her hand tightened. Finally, his eyes opened and he turned his head towards her.

“Fine. But we do it here and now, without Wong or Eir or Strange. Only you.”

Relief flooded Alice’s chest and she nodded eagerly.

“Of course. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

Loki grimaced and his entire body stiffened.

“Well, get on with it before I change my mind.”

Alice rose to her feet and took a deep breath. She could go get a notepad, or put on her sorcerer’s robes, but the truth was she didn’t really need anything but herself and Loki to perform the spell, and Loki looked like he was one light breeze away from bolting. It would be best to just start now.

“Lean back, and try to relax.”

Loki barked out a harsh laugh, but leaned back in the chair and closed his eyes. His fingers gripped the armchair with white-knuckled determination, and his throat worked to swallow his evident anxiety. Alice pulled a piece of paper from the binder and quickly sketched out the necessary healing runes, tearing the paper into two pieces—one for each hand—once she was done. She positioned herself in front of Loki and moved her hands in the prescribed motions, her nerves assaulting her in full force. She had only done this once before after all, and the consequences of failure felt even more catastrophic this time. The healing magic flowed from her to Loki, and just as she had with Barton, she directed it first at his feet then moved slowly up towards his head. Then, she saw.

She almost gasped aloud at the vision of Loki’s spirit before her. It was so different from Barton’s—so much older, and so much more damaged. Immediately Alice could sense the influence of the Time Stone. Like a cancer, it had metastasized and infiltrated parts of Loki’s being that were far removed from its initial influence. It tainted everything that he was, like a pair of garishly colored sunglasses, and it hurt just to look at.

And the Time Stone wasn’t the only wound Alice found. Remembering Loki’s reluctance to let her in, Alice tried to ignore it, but the facts unfolded themselves to her with or without her willing it.

First there was a trauma so old and deep that Alice doubted that Loki could be consciously aware of it. He was just an infant, innocent and confused, when his identity, his heritage, even his appearance was hidden deep inside. The new self was not so much a disguise as a new version of his spirit—one that he still had yet to reconcile with the first one.

The second gaping wound came later. Alice saw Loki hanging by a thread, the expanse of the cosmos stretching out behind him. She saw Loki reaching out desperately to a man who could only be Odin, seeking forgiveness, acceptance, love. She saw Odin turn away.

“No.”

Loki let go.

She saw torture, pain, desire, helplessness, all at the hands of Thanos. She saw Loki reach out with that same desperation to the Mad Titan, and this time he was embraced, his anger and pain honed to a knife’s edge and pointed at Thanos’s enemies.

She saw the Mind Stone. She saw it amplifying all of Loki’s anger, all of his violent tendencies. She saw it drowning out his second thoughts, his doubt, his guilt, and leaving him only with thoughtless rage and blind ambition. Alice could see during the assault on New York that the Infinity Stone’s control over Loki was near absolute. The yellow, sickly energy of the stone permeated everything like ink soaking through sheets and sheets of pristine paper. The influence dimmed after Loki’s defeat and subsequent imprisonment, but like the aftertaste of spoiled milk, it’s presence lingered on the tongue. It lurked behind his every thought, stoking his anger and his sense of entitlement—whispering to him that the people around him weren’t real, that their pain didn’t matter. That all that mattered was him.

She saw his mother die, and with her his last hope of redeeming himself. She saw Odin die as well, his kind and fatherly words upon his departure touching, angering, and confusing Loki in equal measure.

Finally, she saw Loki decide to return to Asgard, to throw in his lot with his brother one last time, for better or for worse. She saw him make this decision despite the urging of the Mind Stone to turn away from the Aesir once and for all. She saw that this was one of the few decisions in the past decade that Loki did not regret.

Alice tore herself away from the vision, knowing that she had already seen far more than either she intended or Loki wished. She opened her eyes and she was returned to the real world, her drab living room looking almost startlingly normal around her. Loki still sat on the chair, his fingers literally digging into the meat of the armchair’s stuffed arms. He opened his eyes and glared up at her defiantly.

“Well?”

Looking down on him, knowing that he expected her distrust, her disappointment, her disgust, Alice felt only compassion.

“Loki…” she said calmly, gently.

He jerked his head to the side, breaking eye contact.

“Don’t,” he said harshly, his voice breaking slightly, “I don’t want your pity.”

Undaunted, Alice placed a warm hand on Loki’s shoulder.

“Don’t be ridiculous. When someone I care about is hurt, then I hurt with them. That’s compassion—not pity.”

Loki shook his head, but did not push Alice away. She took that as a good sign. Slowly and carefully, Alice maneuvered herself into the chair next to Loki. The armchair was only meant for one person, but Loki was narrow and Alice more or less fit if she sat halfway on Loki’s thigh and halfway on the cushion. She snaked a hand between Loki’s back and the cushion and met it with her other hand, holding him in a warm embrace. He still didn’t look at her, but she felt the tension in his muscles gradually decrease the longer she held on. Eventually, she spoke.

“I saw more… more than I should have.”

Loki huffed.

“I told you.”

Alice nodded, her cheek rubbing against Loki’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry. But I also found what I was looking for. The Mind Stone.”

“How bad is it?”

Alice pulled enough away from Loki to look him in the face. At first his head remained stubbornly angled away from her, but eventually he turned his stiff neck and met her gaze, his expression as still as stone.

“The mind stone wreaked some serious havoc on you, and its effects are still present.”

“Can you fix it?”

“I think so. Mostly, if not entirely.”

Alice really couldn’t be sure, since her sample size for successful procedures consisted of exactly one patient. Still, based on what she’d seen of Loki’s mind, the same procedure should work just the same on him as it had on Barton. It was only a difference of scale.

Loki took in a deep breath through his nose and closed his eyes as he exhaled.

“Do you know…” he started, unsure. “How much of it was me and how much of it was the stone?"

Alice pulled herself closer to Loki again, resting her head on his chest and moving her arms to his waist. She slipped her arms underneath his suit coat and squeezed him tightly, feeling the fine fabric of his dress shirt against her skin.

“It’s hard to say. Before Thanos, obviously, it’s all you. During New York… The Mind Stone didn’t create new emotions for you, but it amplified what was already there, and almost erased anything positive. I’d say that during the time you possessed the scepter, it had almost complete control over your actions.”

Loki’s chest expanded and retracted against Alice’s cheek, and his hands slowly made their way around her waist, returning her embrace.

“And… since then?” he asked, his voice barely audible.

“Since then… it’s been mostly you. You but… with some scars. The trouble regulating your emotions? That’s almost certainly after effects of the stone.”

“So… After you heal me I won’t be angry anymore?”

Alice chuckled lightly.

“I wouldn’t say _that_. I’m not sure exactly how your recovery will go. I’ve only done this once before, after all. But I think if the procedure is successful you’ll at least have a better idea if your anger is truly yours or not.”

Loki bobbed his head absently.

“That would be… nice,” he said distantly.

Something about his tone felt off, like he was about to disappear.

“Loki?” Alice asked, tilting her head up towards his, “are you alright?”

Loki was silent a long time, his eyes far away and his thoughts inscrutable. Alice felt her resolve harden, her determination not to let this moment of vulnerability—of connection—slip away. She waited patiently, her arms still firmly around his torso.

“Loki?” she asked again.

“You saw everything?” he eventually responded, his gaze directed out the window of Alice’s living room, despite the closed blinds.

“I mean, of course I didn’t see _everything_. You’ve lived over a thousand years, Loki. But I saw the highlights. The highlights in terms of pain and trauma.”

“ _Wonderful_ ,” Loki drawled. “I’ve always wanted you to see me at my best.”

Sarcasm. Sarcasm was good. It was better than no emotion, at least.

“The things I saw didn’t make me think less of you. If anything, they helped me understand you better—made some of your choices make more sense. Why wouldn’t you want that?”

“I don’t want easy justifications for what I’ve done. I don’t want the story to be ‘of course he’s like this—he’s a poor, fatherless, unloved child.’”

“But justification and context are not the same thing.”

Loki snorted in derision. He turned his head towards Alice for a moment, then jerked it again towards the window, his eyes hard and glassy. Alice reached for Loki’s jaw and turned his head back towards her, forcing him to meet her gaze.

“ _And more importantly_ , you’re not unloved.”

Loki didn’t turn his eyes away from her, but she could see the strain required to do so. Moisture gathered in his eyes, but stubbornly refused to fall. A tiny, jagged smile appearing on his face.

“Such pretty words.”

“They’re true.”

Loki’s head lurched back and forth in a narrow shaking motion.

“I do not even know what manner of creature I am. Am I a prince? A monster? A puppet of Thanos? A murderer?”

Alice moved her other hand to his cheek so she was cupping his face with both hands, halting the shaking.

“It doesn’t matter what you are, I still care about you. And so does Thor.”

Loki’s eyes burned with emotion uncontained, and his head fell to his chin, his eyes screwing shut. He pulled Alice closer to him, gathering her fully onto his lap and burying his head in her shoulder. Alice held him, soothing his shaking shoulders and murmuring soft words. They remained that way for a long time.


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh! Less than a week to finish this before the movie comes out! I really want the whole thing to be published while it could still technically be canon, haha. Anyway we’re closing in on the end. Only one more chapter after this one! A lot of stuff gets worked out in this chapter so I hope you enjoy it and it doesn’t feel too rushed. Also, there are a lot of feels in this chapter, so I just hope Loki doesn’t seem OOC. Let me know what you think, and thanks for reading!

The extraction took much longer for Loki than it had for Barton. The difference came down to the sheer volume of Mind Stone influence requiring attention, as well as the depth and breadth of the damage. On top of all that, Alice felt even more pressure to work as precisely and carefully as possible since she was performing the procedure by herself without any backup from Wong or Latisha. It was up to her alone to make no mistakes, and at risk was Loki’s very mind.

All in all, it ended up taking five hours. Alice withdrew from Loki’s mind when she was done, nearly collapsing onto the couch behind her and noticing the golden rays of late afternoon light already streaming in through the blinds. She’d had no idea how much time had passed, the extraction process having sucked her in completely, making her forget time and space and leaving her feeling divorced from even her own body.

She melted into the couch, closing her eyes as the faded yellow and red haze in her vision threatened a loss of consciousness. Distantly she was aware of Loki stirring from his couch, and she forced her heavy eyelids open to take a look at her patient.

“Alice? Are you well?” Loki asked.

Alice shook her head weakly.

“I’m fine. The spell is just… draining. That’s all.”

“I see.”

Alice’s eyes slid shut again, but she forced herself to stay awake. She needed to know if the extraction was a success.

“How do you feel? Any different?” she croaked.

Alice still couldn’t manage to open her eyes, but she could hear the thoughtful curiosity in Loki’s voice.

“I feel… different. Lighter. Perhaps… not myself.”

“Not yourself?”

“I suppose it makes sense. I have lived with the influence of the Mind Stone for so long, perhaps its anger started to feel like home.”

“Well. I guess now you can find out who you really are, by yourself.”

“Yes.”

The armchair groaned, and Loki must have risen to his feet, because Alice heard him take several steps towards her. His cool hand landed gently on her shoulder.

“I will leave you to recover now. You have my thanks.”

Alice dragged her eyes open and looked up at Loki through her messy hair.

“I’m sorry to not show you out. I’m just… so tired,” she said, then her eyes fell closed again.

Loki let out a long-suffering sigh.

“I suppose if I leave you you’ll fall asleep right here on this nasty couch, won’t you?”

Alice nodded lazily, already halfway to dreamland. A few moments later, she felt lean arms gathering her up and lifting her off the couch.

“It’s not that nasty…” she murmured, thoughts already drifting off.

Loki scoffed.

“Your standards are almost staggeringly low.”

She mumbled several half-hearted protests as Loki carried her back to her room, but she was already asleep by the time Loki tucked her into her bed.

\---

Alice ambled happily down the street in Brooklyn by her mother’s side, shopping bag in her hand. She nodded agreeably along to Kathy’s easy chatter about he students, about the faculty who got on her nerves, and about the principal’s latest ill-conceived crusade. Alice tried to listen, but the obnoxious sound of an ambulance heading their way from far down the street was making it difficult.

“What was that?”

Kathy repeated her last comment regarding one student’s especially overbearing mother, but Alice still couldn’t hear it. The siren was coming closer and closer, the sound rendering comprehension impossible. Alice kept waiting for the ambulance to pass them so she could hear again, but instead the sound became more and more regular, neither diminishing nor strengthening.

With a start, Alice jerked out of her bed, the insistent ringing of her cellphone pulling her bodily from dreamland. Alice grasped for her phone, sliding it unlocked before even checking to see the caller.

“...Hello?” she croaked into the phone.

“Alice? Are you alright? You’re two hours late to your shift.”

Blearily, Alice pulled her phone from her ear and checked the time. It was already past 8AM, which was indeed two hours after her 6AM shift start. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept over twelve hours, and she _still_ felt tired.

“I’m sorry, Ian, I… I’m not feeling very well. I completely slept past my alarms.”

She could hear Ian swallow a frustrated sigh through the receiver, but he still hid it pretty well, all things considered.

“Don’t worry about it, just rest up. We’ll keep you covered.”

“Thank you, Ian. I’ll be back in tomorrow, I promise.”

“It’s alright if you need another day tomorrow, just let me know ahead of time, OK?”

“You got it.”

Alice hung up the phone and collapsed back into her pillow, staring up at the ceiling for a long moment before closing her eyes. Well, this was a good bit of data to collect about her healing spell: it was incredibly fatiguing to the caster. Alice doubted she’d ever run into anyone else who needed to be healed from the mental impacts of the Mind Stone, but it still might be relevant to other healing spells.

Alice was about to let herself fall back to sleep when she remembered a notification she’d seen on her phone when Ian called. She unlocked her phone and checked the five new emails sitting in her inbox, fully expecting them all to be junk from the local yoga studio she’d signed up for last week or the book club she’d joined when feeling a bit overconfident in her willingness to leave the house after work for social activities. Sure enough, three of her emails were entirely forgettable, but the fourth and fifth were not.

The last email was from Loki, but the squirming nerves in Alice’s gut wouldn’t let her open that email first. Instead she opened the one underneath it—a message from an email address she’d never seen before but the contents of which intrigued her.

____________________________________________________________________________  
From: **thrym@jotunheim.gov**  
To: **me** Friday 11:32 PM

_Ms. Wakefield,_

_We met several months ago in New Asgard, but unfortunately have yet to meet formally. I am Thrym, assistant to Prince Loki as ambassador for Jotunheim to both the peoples of Earth and New Asgard. When Prince Loki returned from your home to our offices this evening, he informed me of his condition, as well as the healing ritual you performed._

_It will please you to hear that Prince Loki does seem much improved after receiving your help. He is calmer, more measured in his emotions, and more confident in himself. I must admit I can already tell that he will be much more pleasant to work with. I can only hope that this improvement will not prove temporary._

_I am writing not simply to thank you for aiding Prince Loki, for which indeed I am indeed very grateful, but also to provide you with some context as to what Prince Loki has been doing these past months and years. As I am sure you are aware, Loki is the son of Laufey, the former king of Jotunheim, and therefore rightful inheritor to the currently-vacant throne of Jotunheim. I am a member of a powerful clan of frost giants, and about a year ago, Prince Loki approached me with a proposal. He wanted to ascend the throne, but he wanted to gain the confidence of the frost giants beforehand to both improve their situation and also strengthen his claim to the throne._

_Jotunheim’s current state of disrepair is due primarily to our loss of the Casket of Ancient Winters. This relic is known to many as a weapon of immense power, but it was also used both to power the jotun’s magic and to build and maintain our realm. Without it, we are but paupers huddling in a frozen wasteland,_

_Many believed the Casket lost in the events of Ragnarok, but Prince Loki told me he had a way to recover the relic—but only with the help of the Aesir. He proposed that together, we work out a truce such that the Casket be returned to Jotunheim, to be used only for the defense and maintenance of our realm. This would secure Loki’s place on the throne, and his place on the throne would in turn help the Aesir feel more certain of their truce with our people. Through diplomacy, we would be able to ensure prosperity and security for our people without any loss of life. I agreed to Prince Loki’s plan immediately, and together we have been working towards this goal ever since._

_I am telling you all of this because I want you to be aware of two things:_

  1. _Prince Loki will likely become King of Jotunheim within the year._
  2. _Prince Loki is also in an emotionally vulnerable state right now. He may be more likely to forget his long-term goals, but do not doubt his commitment to them. These are centuries-old ambitions, and they will not be forgotten for long._



_I want to thank you once more for the assistance you have rendered the future monarch of Jotunheim. I hope that this is only the beginning of a long and mutually-beneficial relationship between yourself and the embassy of Jotunheim._

_Best regards,_

_Thrym, Assistant Ambassador of Jotunheim_

 

Alice stared for a long moment at the name at the end of the email, her brow furrowing in consternation. It was fascinating and… brilliant, really. Loki’s plan to restore Jotunheim, improve relations between the Aesir and the jotun, and claim his father’s throne could accomplish all of his goals simultaneously, without harming anyone. The most promising aspect of the plan was the overall win-win perspective. This scheme was the best evidence Alice had seen yet of Loki’s abandonment of his zero-sum game way of viewing the universe. She felt immensely proud as she contemplated the prospect of Loki’s success, and decided right then and there that she would pray for the realization of his plan. She felt slightly hurt that Loki had never shared his plan with her, but she was unsurprised by his secrecy. It was just the way he was.

Once she got past her initial thoughts surrounding Loki’s aspirations, Alice began wondering about the author of the email. What could this Thrym mean by sending this kind of missive? Alice let out an undignified snort as she realized what his letter reminded her of: the meddlesome, snooty relative in soap operas who always tries to warn the heroine to stay away their son “or else.” And that really was what he was doing, actually. Not threatening her, of course, but explaining to her the impracticalities of embarking on a more personal relationship with “Prince Loki.”

Alice understood what Thrym trying to do, but it was all unnecessary. Loki had a deeper personal connection with her than he had with almost anyone else living, as far as she was aware, but she had no illusions of a sweeping romance with the jotun prince. He was over a millenia older than she, and had a massive ego matched only by his inferiority complex in size. Alice was confident he felt a wide range of emotions towards her, but she doubted those feelings could ever amount to what she required in a romantic relationship. As for what she felt for him… well, it didn’t really matter much either way, did it?

Forcibly putting the jotun ambassador’s carefully-worded presumptions out of her mind, Alice opened the next email.

____________________________________________________________________________  
From: **Michael**  
To: **me** Saturday 2:33 AM

_Dear Alice,_

_A weight has been lifted from my mind, the magnitude of which I do not believe I can fully express to you. Nevertheless, I still intend to try._

_An errand of vital importance calls me away from Midgard for a time, but I should return within the week, and plan to see you as soon as possible. I hope my presence will be welcome—please inform me if it is not. I look forward to regaling you with my conquests upon my return._

_-Loki_

Alice quickly typed out her response, expressing pleasure at his apparent recovery and stating that of course he was welcome to visit her once his task was accomplished. She briefly considered asking him if his mysterious errand involved retrieving the Casket of Ancient Winters, but decided against it. She wasn’t sure how he would react, and if he asked her how she knew of the ancient artifact, she would not know how to respond without explaining Thrym’s email. She sent the email before she could overthink any more and fell back into her bed, her exhaustion returning at full force. Her last conscious thought was a vague memory of Loki’s arms around here—in the armchair, in her Brooklyn apartment, at Strange’s wedding.

\---

Alice eventually responded to Thrym’s email with a short, professional thank-you, but no additional information or commentary on what his message implied but did not outright say. She then returned to work, spending almost three weeks straight working at the hospital without setting foot in the Sanctum. She’d taken more time off from her nursing job than usual to deal with Barton and Loki’s treatment, and now that it was over she needed to make up the borrowed time.

It was pleasant, working almost full-time in a hospital again. It was nice to be helping more people in such a concrete way, to be reminded of her practical skills. Nice to have a break from all of the magical nonsense and inter-realm politics. Nice to feel normal again. It was so nice, Alice barely minded that it was two weeks past when Loki had said he’d return, and she’d still not heard from him.

On the Monday three weeks following Loki’s treatment, Alice got home from her morning shift feeling exhausted, yet oddly satisfied. She’d managed to slip seamlessly back into work after getting a rare weekend off, and her weekend had been well-spent. She’d had Riya and Kathy over for dinner on Sunday night, both to enjoy Alice’s poor attempt at a three-course meal and to watch the season premier of Kathy’s favorite TV show. It had been a fun evening, and Alice was glad to remind herself that she had a life outside of magic and trauma and damaged princes.

Alice dug through her work bag in search of her keys at her front door, but instead her fingers found her buzzing cell phone. She pulled it out of the bag and answered, deciding answering the unknown number was worth the risk of hearing yet another robocall.

“Alice?” a voice on the other end of the phone said as soon as she answered.

“Loki!” Alice said, not fully realizing how much she’d wanted him to get back to her until she heard his voice, “you’ve never called me before.”

“Yes, well. I’m inside your house. It only just occurred to me that you might want some advanced notice.”

“Loki I’m sure you know that I’m right outside. Like, seconds away from walking through my door.”

Alice could practically hear the smile in his voice.

“Ah, well. Baby steps, I suppose.”

Alice rolled her eyes and pulled the phone away from her ear, talking into the microphone just before hanging up.

“Ok, consider me warned.”

Alice finally fished her keys out of her bag and opened the door, and sure enough Loki was right inside, standing in the middle of the room with his back to the door.

“You’re back!” Alice said brightly, awkwardly setting her full bag by the door before walking over to where Loki stood. He turned towards her, his eyes flicking to her feet before returning to her face, and smiled.

“Yes. My apologies, my errand took longer than I expected.”

“That’s fine. Things always end up more complicated with you, right?”

Alice laughed lightly as she sunk into the couch. She expected Loki to take his customary seat in the armchair across from her, but he remained standing, his arms folded and a slight strain tightening his smile.

“I suppose there’s too much evidence to the contrary for me to argue with that,” he said, shifting his weight from one foot to another.

Loki swallowed and took a step towards Alice, his hands moving behind his back.

“I have a gift for you.”

“Oh?”

Loki reached for one of Alice’s hands and set something small and cool in her palm, covering it with his so she couldn’t see the contents until he’d sat down next to her on the couch. Alice opened her palm to reveal a pair of large golden earrings, each one an elegant drop-shape easily an inch long. The weight and luster of the jewelry was evidence enough that this was a special, _expensive_ gift. Alice looked up at Loki, brow furrowed. Perhaps items like this meant little to a prince like Loki, but they made Alice feel uncomfortable, and she didn’t know how to react to Loki’s unprecedented behavior.

“You really didn’t have to get me anything, Loki. I’m a nurse. It’s my job to help. And considering how inexperienced I am, you were practically doing me a favor, acting as my guinea pig and all that,” she said, chuckling half-heartedly at her meager joke.

Loki frowned, then shifted a bit closer to her.

“Surely you must be joking. It’s been almost a month since the spell, and I feel so much… more myself. You have given me back who I used to be. You have given me freedom. What could be more valuable than that?”

Alice squirmed to avoid Loki’s piercing gaze.

“I… I _helped_ , but I can’t… Don’t expect me to be able to _fix_ you, Loki,” she said, fiddling with her fingers in her lap.

“Do not mistake me, I take credit for my many strengths and virtues,” he said with a smirk, “that doesn’t mean I cannot properly thank you for what you’ve done.”

Alice closed her fingers around the earrings.

“...Thank you.”

She moved to put the earrings in the pocket of the zip-up sweatshirt she wore over her scrubs, but Loki stopped her, gingerly taking the earrings from her.

“Let me,” he said, leaning towards her to fit the earrings onto each of Alice’s earlobes.

Alice’s heart jumped into her throat. He was so close to her, she could smell the oiled leather of his jacket, hear his breath in her ear. Loki wasn’t a largely-built man, but this close he seemed broader, his body exuding a gravitational pull that had Alice digging her fingers into the seat of the couch to resist. He was doing it again—making her think something that wasn’t true. Giving her silly, impractical, _impossible_ ideas.

She could ignore it. She’d just wait it out, and they’d continue to have a normal, genial conversation. That was what Alice told herself, but once the earrings were properly affixed, Loki didn’t move away. His head turned from her ear to face her, their noses almost touching. He looked intently into her eyes, and Alice just stared back dumbly, any and all thought completely vacant from her mind. As if in slow-motion, Loki closed his eyes and moved closer, his head tilting to the right to avoid colliding with Alice’s nose.

He kissed her, tender but firm at first, then moving, moving towards _something_. No decisions made, no thoughts completed, Alice responded. Whatever Loki had done with his thousand years of life, he had at some point learned how to kiss, and it was _joyous_.

Alice moved onto her knees and turned towards Loki, and his hand wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer to him. His mouth was warm and soft, and his kisses pushed and pulled, but never in a domineering or aggressive way. It had been years since Alice had felt this way—like a teenager so lost in a discovery of feeling that everything else just seemed to melt away. The fingers of her right hand slipped under his leather coat and felt at his back, while her other hand found its way into his hair. There was so much of it, and Alice had never kissed a man with long hair before.

“Alice,” Loki murmured between kisses, his voice rasping slightly.

Somehow her name acted like a magic word, kick-starting Alice’s brain and reminding her that she wasn’t just an empty vessel for the senses. She extricated her hand from his hair and removed her other hand from his shirt, creating some space between them as her eyes went wide. Loki returned her gaze with a somewhat dazed look, intent on Alice but confused.

“Is this real?” Alice asked.

A hurt look crossed Loki’s features. He grabbed her hand and held it up between them, fingers touching the ring on her finger.

“I gave this to you so you would never have to wonder that any more. I would never do that to you.”

Alice shook her head.

“That’s not what I mean, I… What’s happening? What are you trying to do?”

Loki sighed and shook his head from side to side.

“I realized that my actions in the past have confused you, so I will be entirely clear. I care for you. I wish to court you. I have no interest in anyone else.”

Alice swallowed thickly, a part of her she’d largely ignored for the past several years filling with joy and excitement. The other part of her felt stunned and confused, uncertain as to what to do.

“When… when did this happen? Why now?”

“I’ve felt an interest in you from the very beginning of our acquaintance. At first I resisted because I believed you to be beneath me. Later I resisted because I believed I was not good enough for you. Now... I still do not think I deserve you, but at least I am free of the Mind Stone.”

“You say you don’t deserve me but… you seem to expect me to want to be with you,” Alice said.

Loki sputtered, his pale face flushing.

“Well, anyone could see that you are attracted to me. And I may not be a good enough person for you, but I… I’m _trying_. And there is much I can give you. Magic, money, power.”

“You know I don’t want that, though.”

Loki swallowed and leaned back, creating more space between them. He looked more unsure of himself than Alice had ever seen him.

“I apologize, I had thought that you harbored… romantic feelings for me. If I was mistaken I will leave immediately and trouble you no more.”

He rose from the couch and straightened the jacket out, his eyes darting to the door. Alice jumped up after him and laid a hand on his arm.

“No, I’m sorry, don’t go-”

“-Do you then?”

“Do I what?”

“Do you… care for me?”

Alice sputtered, her brain floundering over the question like a fish on land. Did she care for Loki? She knew she’d had something of a crush on him for a long time, but she’d also always known it was ill-advised. How many voices had joined the chorus telling her that he was not to be trusted, that she should not get too close? Her own voice had joined in, for goodness’ sake. And yet, things had changed, hadn’t they? Loki had changed, and that didn’t count for nothing.

While Alice’s thoughts raced, Loki’s features hardened. He was one second away from disappearing forever, Alice knew, and she needed to act fast. Amidst all the uncertainty, she knew with perfect clarity that she didn’t want to lose him.

“I do. I do care for you,” she said, her grip on his arm tightening. “You’re brilliant, clever, funny, ambitious. You understand people well—well, _other_ people at least. You’re willing to sacrifice for people you care about. And most of all, you want to be better. You want to change. That’s… the hardest thing a person can do, you know?”

Loki’s face retained its careful passivity.

“Then what objections remain?”

Alice slid her hand down to Loki’s hand, then reached for his other hand and pulled him around to face her. This conversation would go much easier if she didn’t feel like he was about to bolt.

“You know I am a practical person. Any objections I have are about the impracticalities of what you’re proposing.”

“What impracticalities? I am a prince of Asgard. I can think of no obstacles that could not be easily taken care of.”

“But that’s it exactly! You’re a prince of Asgard! You plan to become King of Jotunheim—don’t even act like you don’t know what I’m talking about—and if you were king how could you be in a relationship with someone like me? And that’s not even taking into account the age thing. I’m already practically middle-aged. In thirty years I will be old and wrinkled and you will look exactly the same.”

“Who told you about Jotunheim?” he asked, his eyes narrowing, then he sighed. “It must have been Thrym. He is a capable ally, but somewhat meddlesome.”

“Yes, it was Thrym. But I wish it had been _you_ who told me.”

Loki let Alice’s hands go, placing them behind his back in a formal, rigid posture.

“I was going to tell you. I was just waiting for the right time.”

“And when would that be?” Alice asked, folding her arms. She shook her head. “It doesn’t even matter. The point is, you will be King of Jotunheim. And I want you to be! You could do so much _good_. But I don’t see how a mortal, human girlfriend would fit into all that.”

Loki jerked his head to the side and let out a low growl of frustration.

“I will _make_ a place for you. I swear it.”

Unexpected tears welled in Alice’s eyes, startling her for a moment. She shook her head.

“Even if you somehow find a way for it to work, who’s to say that I am what you will want in a month? A year? Five years? You regained full control of your mind only weeks ago. Now is not the time to be making these kinds of decisions.”

“Is that what concerns you? I have lived over a thousand years, I _know_ what I _want_.”

“Loki, you know I am being reasonable. You know what I am saying makes sense.”

Loki pursed his lips and looked hard at Alice for a long moment before lowering his head, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He pinched the bridge of his nose with his hand, then opened up his fingers to cover his eyes. Alice swallowed nervously and waited for him. Eventually, he lowered his hand, a much calmer and more measured Loki appearing from behind the pale finers. He looked her right in the eyes, the blue of his irises vivid in her dim living room.

“I love you.”

Alice’s heart lurched. He was the first person to say those words to her since Andy, and she was pretty sure he meant it.

“If you are concerned that I will change my mind, then give me some time to prove myself. You can think of it as research—as an experiment.”

Alice took a cautious step towards Loki.

“What kind of experiment, exactly?”

A slow smile crept its way across Loki’s face, and he took a step towards Alice as well. He raised a hand to her cheek, cupping it gently beneath his cool fingers.

“It means that I see you often. It means we trust each other and help each other. It means I get to do things like this,” he leaned forward and kissed her gently, his eyes closing briefly for the contact.

Alice couldn’t help but shudder at his startling affection, her eyes pricking again with unshed tears.

“But… that will just make it harder. When it doesn’t work out.”

“No need to be so fatalistic. I am beginning to understand that I may not be able to achieve all of my goals. Sacrifices must be made in order to achieve what one desires the most, after all. But I do not intend for you to be one of those sacrifices. Please, Alice. Have a little faith.”

Alice let out a wet laugh.

“Have a little faith? In the God of Mischief?”

Loki grasped her forearm gently and pulled her into his chest, wrapping his arms around her in a loose but comforting embrace.

“Some may call me the God of Lies, but I swear that with you, I will always be true. I… may not have said as much at the time, but that is why I enchanted your ring. Let it represent my promise to you.”

Alice closed her eyes, allowing herself to rest her head fully on his chest. Even through the thick leather, she could hear his heartbeat. Alice had never much liked listening to heartbeats. Especially after Andy’s death, they only ever reminded her that all it would take was for this organ to stop beating, and life would end. Strangely, however, listening to Loki’s heartbeat was comforting. It made him feel more real, made the possibility of being with him—of loving him—seem more attainable. Perhaps he wasn’t human, exactly, but he was a living being, capable of all of the things other living beings were. And she loved him.

Alice pulled away far enough to look into Loki’s face, and she saw anxiety there. He really did want her, didn’t he? That was strange. She saw the tightness across his features that signalled fear, a sign she had come to recognize over the months, though he worked very hard to hide any weaknesses. Her heart filled with affection for him, for this person who was so gifted and blessed, and so cursed at the same time. For this person who, above all else, tried. She brought her hands to his cheeks and met his fearful gaze with one full of warmth.

“Ok. Let’s give it a shot.”


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ah I did it! And with just a few days to spare! I’m not entirely satisfied with this chapter, because endings are hard, but this is what I was building to and I hope that you guys enjoy it. This is easily the longest complete story I’ve ever written and I appreciate so much everyone who’s read, liked, comment, etc. You guys are great! And feel free to let me know if you think this ending could be better. I might update it if I see opportunities for improvement.

It was almost odd how normal dating Loki was. They spent time together, they texted, they went out to eat, they watched movies, they even went on a hike or two. Remove the portals used to get between New Asgard and LA, and practically everything else about their relationship was indistinguishable from Alice’s relationships with normal, non-godly men.

About a month into their relationship, Alice visited Loki at his offices in New Asgard bearing takeout and _Die Hard_. Loki had retrieved the Casket of Ancient Winters immediately following his healing, but while the Casket was in his possession, negotiating its return to the jotuns was proving difficult. Loki and Thrym had spent many long nights discussing the terms of the treaty and meeting with Aesir and jotun leaders, and it was beginning to take a toll. Knowing how stressed Loki was, Alice decided the best course of action was to convince him to take a short break, hence the takeout and movie.

Thrym did not much appreciate Alice’s plan, but Loki’s promise that he would finish the draft of their latest proposal later that night appeased him, and Loki and Alice retired to Loki’s rooms to eat and enjoy each others’ company. Loki loved _Die Hard_ , unsurprisingly, and he tolerated the greasy Pad Thai with minimal complaint. After the movie Alice expected him to get right back to work, but instead he set his takeout on the coffee table in front of the couch and grabbed Alice’s hand.

“I’ve been talking with Eir recently. Without telling her the specifics of our situation, I’ve made inquiries regarding which magics and techniques might best extend your lifespan. There are _many_ options, and we should begin research in earnest to address your concerns sooner rather than later,” Loki said, then he squeezed her hand and laughed. “With your talents for healing magic and my power, you may even live longer than I do.”

Alice grimaced, and a strange fear clenched in her stomach. Loki’s smile faded as he took in the obvious trepidation written on her face.

“I don’t _want_ to live five thousand years,” Alice said, her fingers tightening around Loki’s, “Can you imagine? Everyone I know and love dying centuries before I even come close? I like being human.”

A shadow passed over Loki’s features.

“Then, you wish for me to see you die? You wish me to live 4,000 more years without you?”

Alice swallowed thickly. She knew what it was to be left behind. Perhaps she hadn’t fully thought this through.

“I… I don’t want to hurt you, but… I am human. If I somehow turn into this magical, nearly-immortal thing, then… what will I be?”

Loki’s frown increased, but he nodded tightly. He turned a few degrees away from her, looking off into the corner of the room.

“Of course I wouldn’t force it on you.”

Alice’s hands wrapped around Loki’s waist and her fingers dug into the fabric of his shirt. Her arms pulled Loki back towards her, and she pressed her face into his chest, eyes screwed shut. She had never seriously considered trying to extend her lifespan, had always thought of her place in Loki’s life as a meaningful yet passing companion. To ask for anything more felt… presumptuous. Wrong. Alice had long since been reconciled to the realities of death. Doing away with that reality, leaving the rest of the world she knew behind her… that was much more frightening.

“I will think about it,” she said, her voice muffled by Loki’s fine green tunic. “But if I… If I do live a normal lifespan, will it be enough for you? Is the time I have to give you enough?”

“The more I can have of you, the better,” Loki said quietly, “but I will have to accept whatever you have to give.”

\---

They did not speak of extending the length of Alice’s life again, though over the months they came to an unspoken agreement that Alice would live and die as a human, as she wanted.

One night after a particularly long negotiation session regarding the Casket of Ancient Winters, Alice and Loki accepted Tisha’s invitation to stay behind at the New York Sanctum for drinks. The negotiations were occasionally held at the Sanctum, as Dr. Strange was the interim keeper of the Casket until its long-term home could be determined. Dr. Strange had helped Loki recover the Casket from the time-wreckage of Asgard, and his stewardship of the relic had been one of the primary motivating factors that had convinced Strange to assist Loki in his endeavor in the first place.

Tisha poured herself, Loki, Alice, and Strange each a drink, and they found their seats around a small circular table in the Sanctum’s kitchen. Talk inevitably turned to the negotiations.

“...I worry there is too much ill-will between the Aesir and the jotun. There must be at least some miniscule amount of trust if these talks are going to go anywhere,” Strange said after they’d already been talking for some time.

Loki shook his head.

“This rivalry runs millenia-deep. But that does not mean the talks will fail. The Aesir may never trust the jotun to do something that benefits New Asgard, but they can trust in the jotun’s own self-interest. And vice versa, for that matter. Talks will succeed. We immortals just like to take our time with things,” he finished with a smirk.

Strange rolled his eyes and took another sip of his drink, and Alice smiled. Working together over the past few months had nurtured a love-hate relationship between the two sorcerers, and Alice felt strongly that it was good for both of them.

“You say immortal, but you’re not really immortal, right? How long do jotun and Aesir usually live?” Tisha asked, her eyes wide. She’d already polished off a few drinks, and was finding it difficult to repress her natural curiosity.

“I’d say the average is around 5,000 years, but of course we can be killed at any age. And some among our kind are much older.”

“So what will you do when Alice is all old and wrinkly and you…” Tisha gestured first to Loki’s face, then his body, “like this?”

Alice’s lips turned downwards, and she hid her expression behind her drink. Loki’s smile fell.

“Well, that is something we have plenty of time to figure out, seeing as Alice has aged beautifully so far,” he said, a smile reappearing that was similar to the previous one, but much more forced. “As for the future… I could always alter my appearance. If Alice’s hair turns white and her skin becomes wrinkled, I can match her.”

Strange set his drink down and leaned back in his chair, his eyebrows climbing high on his forehead.

“Or you could always just stay as you are. Maybe Alice prefers the look of a younger man.”

Alice couldn’t help the surprised laugh that escaped her mouth as she imagined the future Strange proposed.

“Yes, I’ll impress all of the ladies at the rest home,” she said.

One corner of Loki’s mouth lifted, and he shot Alice a wry look.

“Whatever the case, I wouldn’t let something as trivial as appearance become an issue.”

Without a gesture or a word, Loki’s skin suddenly turned blue and his eyes filled with red. Tisha nearly jumped out of her seat, and Strange just rolled his eyes again.

“I’ve always been more fluid than most regarding my appearance.”

An odd weight on Alice’s chest lifted, and she returned Loki’s smirk. He’d been pleasantly surprised to discover how much Alice liked his jotun appearance, having assumed that the largely conventional nurse wouldn’t be interested in his more outlandish, monstrous form. Contrary to his expectations, Alice found his otherworldly body to be unmistakably alluring. Loki knew it, and he was taunting her.

Alice set her drink down.

“It’s pretty late. I think I need to head home,” she said, her cheeks heating.

Loki stood from his seat, his smirk intensifying.

“I’ll accompany you.”

Tisha finished her drink and began filling up another one.

“Ugh. You guys are so boring. Fine, go off and do your own thing like a boring married couple.”

Strange chuckled.

“I’m _actually_ married, but I’m not boring.”

“Yeah, well. I guess you’re immune. They’re not.”

Alice prepared a rebuttal in her head, but before she had a chance to utter it Loki had already tugged her up from her seat and was pulling her towards the hall.

“Yes, yes, it’s all very dull. It’s been a pleasure Tisha, Strange.”

\---

Eventually, Alice told Kathy about Loki. Well, she told Kathy that Michael was actually Loki, and that they were seeing each other. Loki had wanted to be there for the confession, but Alice really had no idea how her mother would react, and wanted to give Kathy some space to sort out how she felt about the whole thing. After all, Loki was a formerly-murderous god and Kathy was a protective mother.

After much thought, Alice decided her best approach would be to work up to Loki. She started by bringing Kathy the LA Sanctum and explaining that she was a sorcerer-in-training. Kathy had at first been quite convinced this was all an elaborate joke, so Alice had then walked her through the portal in the Sanctum to 177A Bleecker St., which was somewhat more convincing to her. They spent the afternoon in the Sanctum, talking about what Alice had learned as well as the difference between the very little the general public knew about magic and the truth of the matter. Dr. Strange arrived joined them later in the afternoon, which was particularly helpful in convincing Kathy of everything Alice was saying. The Dr. was a known member of the Avengers, after all.

Of course, all of these revelations led to the inevitable question that could not be answered without discussing the jotun prince.

“Alice, I believe you are… whatever you are, but… How did you even start learning about this stuff in the first place? Did you meet Dr. Strange at the hospital?” Kathy asked.

Alice shook her head, then took a deep breath, bracing herself.

“No, that’s not how I met Stephen. ...Do you remember Michael?”

Kathy’s eyes narrowed.

“Is he a magician or something? I always knew there was something off about him.”

“He’s… well he can use magic, although he’d hate to be called a magician,” Alice said, knowing she was stalling. She forced herself to get to the point. “I didn’t know it at first, but Michael is actually Loki. Um, as in the brother of Thor. The God of Mischief.”

Kathy stared dumbly at her daughter for a long moment.

“God of Mischief? Isn’t he the person who tore up New York a decade ago?”

Alice nodded.

“What?! Were you in danger? Did Dr. Strange rescue you from him?”

Alice shook her head vigorously.

“No, no. I mean, maybe I was in a little bit of danger, but that wasn’t really Loki’s fault. Or… Agh, this is so complicated.”

Alice held her head in her hands, and Stephen put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“Ms. Wakefield, perhaps I can explain,” he said soothingly. “After The Return, Loki reappeared on earth, eventually ending up in the hospital Alice worked at. In a perhaps misguided act of compassion, Alice brought Loki home, not knowing who he was, and took care of him. At the time Loki was in a large amount of mental and emotional distress, and he benefited greatly from Alice’s care.”

“I don’t _care_ that he benefited from her care, I care that you were living with a _murderer_.”

Alice lifted her head from her hands, distraught at Kathy’s vehemence. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen her mother this upset.

“He’s not… It’s not… It’s more complicated than that, mom.”

They sat together in the Strange’s office, and Alice went over the events of the past two years in painstaking detail, wanting Kathy to see a better side of Loki, but also not wanting to gloss over his faults. She needed Kathy to know that she was clear-headed about all of this, that she hadn’t simply been taken in by a pretty, godlike face.

 

“Mom, I know this is a lot to take in, but it’s important to me that you understand where Loki is coming from. You should meet him, and then you can ask him whatever questions you want.”

Kathy looked up from the glass of whatever she’d been staring into as she listened, her gaze sharp.

“You want me to meet him? Alice… please tell me you didn’t…”

Alice swallowed nervously.

“Um. I’ve been seeing him for the past eight months.”

Kathy’s eyes went wide.

“ _He’s_ the person you’ve been hiding from me? I knew you were with someone, but I didn’t think… Oh honey, how could this possibly be a good idea?”

Strange stood from the table and cleared his throat.

“Well, I think I’ll give you two some privacy. Kathy, it was a pleasure to meet you.”

Kathy distractedly waved goodbye to the sorcerer, then rounded back on Alice.

“Look, I got pregnant with your father. I understand the allure of bad boys. But this. Alice, this is on a whole other level. Please tell me you’re not serious.”

Alice squeezed her eyes shut, hurt drawing tears to her eyes. There was almost nothing in the world more important to her than Kathy’s approval. Still, she had known this was likely coming. She was an adult, and she had not made the decision to be with Loki lightly.

“Mom, he’s important to me, and I love him. Please meet with him. You can ask whatever questions you want. Just… meet with him.”

Kathy leaned back into her chair, a defeated expression weighing her features down.

“If your Avengers friends say that he’s safe then… I guess I’ll meet him. That’s all I can promise, though.”

\---

The first meeting with Kathy did not go well. Loki put on his smoothest, most ingratiating face, but the harder he tried the more Kathy distrusted him. Alice had convinced Thor and Stark to come along for the incredibly uncomfortable dinner as well, mostly to serve as witnesses that Loki wasn’t a danger to Kathy’s daughter. _Well, he hasn’t killed her so far_ , Stark had quipped unhelpfully.

The entire ordeal was tense and painful, and Kathy was by no means charmed by the God of Mischief by the evening’s end. The only victory Alice could claim was that after Loki left, Kathy admitted that she was at least convinced that Loki wouldn’t hurt Alice, or any other human, anymore. Thor and Stark’s testimonies regarding the many assistances Loki had rendered to the Avengers over the past year had helped immensely in that regard.

“And I was so distracted by that greasy snake that I didn’t even get to pinch myself that I was meeting _Tony Stark_ and _Thor_ ,” Kathy complained to Alice after all their guests had gone home. “What a waste of an evening.”

No, the first meeting with Kathy did not go well. Neither did the second. Loki kept on coming over, though, and as they spent more time together his slick facade began to fall away, and Kathy’s natural warmth and generosity gradually won out. Through sheer pig-headedness, Kathy’s distrust softened first to annoyed tolerance, then to grudging affection.

One day almost a half-year after finally telling Kathy about Loki, Alice came home to find Kathy sitting in her living room, her eyes faraway and thoughtful.

“Mom? I didn’t know you were coming over. What’s up?” Alice asked in surprise.

Kathy looked up from the couch and sent Alice a smile that was difficult to interpret. The best word Alice could find to describe it was wistful.

“Oh, I just wanted to see you. Loki came by after school today, you know. Gave me an apple for teacher appreciation day.”

“Oh? I hope he didn’t cause a fuss.”

“No, he was invisible to everyone but me. At least, that’s what it seemed like. Who knows with you magical people.”

“You’re not mad he’s still trying to suck up to you?”

Alice sat down next to Kathy on the couch, and Kathy smiled and patted her on the leg.

“No, not today.”

Alice put her arm around her mother.

“I’m glad! That’s progress.”

Kathy turned to Alice, expression serious.

“I… I can’t say he’s my first choice, but… Well, he’s _your_ first choice. You love him, and I understand much better now why. I just want you to know that… I want you to be happy. And I support you and your decisions, including your decision to be with him.”

Whatever she’d been expecting, Alice hadn’t expected _that_. She bit her lip, then hugged Kathy to her fiercely.

“Thank you, Mom. That really means a lot to me.”

“I know. I’m glad you care so much what I think. I’m sorry I haven’t always been as supportive as I should.”

“No, Mom. You’re perfect.”

\---

The only subject Alice and Loki did not discuss was what they would do when Loki became king. They talked about the truce mediation, about the political situation in Jotunheim, about Loki’s connections with New Asgard—but they did not address how Alice might fit into Loki’s life post-coronation. Alice felt that they didn’t need to talk about it, because she already knew what would happen. Things would continue on as they had before for a while. Loki would come visit her in LA (he’d said that Jotunheim was probably still too dangerous for her), and they would act like nothing had changed. Then, gradually, he would become more and more involved in his life on Jotunheim, and his visits would become fewer and farther between. Eventually, they would agree to make practical reality official and break off their relationship, and Loki would probably find some ice princess to marry and start a dynasty with. It hurt to consider, but Alice still didn’t regret agreeing to their relationship. She would always cherish the time they’d had together.

\---

About a week after Kathy’s unexpected visit, Alice went to meet Loki at his office in New Asgard for dinner. She was originally going to meet him at the restaurant, but Loki had texted her to let her know that he was running late, and that she should wait for him at the embassy. A little disappointed at the delay, Alice sat on one of the luxurious golden couches in Loki’s receiving room and fiddled with her phone, checking the news and her Instagram feed. Instagram was mostly food, which just made her more hungry.

“Alice?” Loki’s voice sounded from his office farther inside the embassy. “Are you here?”

“Yep,” she called back. “Just let me know when you’re ready.”

“You know that tie you gave me to help me look more ‘normal’ to Midgardians? I can’t find it. Could you help me look in here?”

Alice sighed and got up from the couch.

“Did you lose it in another dimension again? I can’t really help if that’s what you did.”

She walked into the office, then stopped dead in her tracks when she realized she didn’t recognize her surroundings. Or rather, she didn’t recognize them as Loki’s office. She was back in the living room of her apartment in Brooklyn.

Everything was exactly as she remembered it, from the tiny kitchen to the old carpet to the precise placement of the couch and armchair. It was perfectly accurate even down to the particular way Loki sat in that very armchair.

“Loki? What’s going on?”

“Just feeling nostalgic,” he said, steepling his fingers beneath his chin.

“Oh, ok. Are we still going to dinner?” Alice said, not believing for one second Loki’s nonchalant attitude.

“I thought we could eat here,” Loki said, pointing to a collection of takeout bags on the counter.

Alice recognized the bags from one of her favorite Chinese places in Brooklyn—the very one she’d taken Loki to get _xiaolongbao_ at all those years ago. She grinned at him.

“ _Xiaolongbao_ beats a fancy French restaurant any day.”

“I thought you’d like it,” Loki said, rising from his seat and taking Alice’s hand, leading her to the couch.

Alice sat down next to him, smoothing the lace skirt of her black dress down and turning towards him.

“Is there a special occasion tonight?”

Loki nodded.

“Yes. I have big news.” He swallowed and cleared his throat, shifting a bit in his seat. “Tomorrow, negotiations for the return of the Casket of Ancient Winters will be finalized, and Thrym will be made King of Jotunheim.”

Alice started, her eyes going wide.

“Wh-what? Thrym?”

She grabbed Loki’s arm in alarm. Why was he so calm?

“Did he turn on you? What happened?”

Loki shook his head back and forth, the look of complete unconcern on his face only increasing Alice’s confusion.

“No, we arranged it together.”

“Loki, I… I thought you wanted to be king. You’re the heir, right? You’ve been planning for this for years!”

“That is what I wanted. But I want to be with you more. We’ve been more or less avoiding this issue all these months, but it never went away. This is the best way I can see to resolve it.”

“But I couldn’t ask you to give up something like this.”

“You didn’t ask me. I chose this myself, and I chose this because I believe it’s worth it.”

Alice shook her head vigorously, her hair whipping into her face as she did so.

“But-”

Loki took her hand in his, then set his other hand firmly but gently on her shoulder, calming her.

“Alice, please listen.”

Alice turned her head towards him, moving the hand not in his to her skirt, where her fingers fisted nervously in the fabric at the hem. Loki let her hand go and brought it up to her face, cupping her cheek under his fingers.

“I will live several thousand more years, but you are determined to only accept the 8-odd decades allotted you. Therefore, your time is much more precious than mine. If this is truly what you want, then I want to be with you, completely, as long as I can. Thrym and I discussed it, and in several centuries, if you are… not with me any more, I may ascend the throne then. But for now, I trust Thrym and his family’s connections give him a strong claim to the throne. I also believe he will be a good leader. He is organized and responsible, and I will grudgingly admit that he is much more level-headed than I.”

Alice sniffed loudly, her hands rising to her face to wipe away tears she hadn’t even realized were falling.

“But what if Thrym is tricking you?”

Loki’s soft smile hardened into an almost savage grin, reminding Alice starkly of the fiercely ambitious man she had first met and fallen for.

“I wouldn’t be terribly shocked, but I am confident I can outmaneuver him, if it comes to it.”

“I don’t… why would-? I just…” Alice couldn’t quite seem to complete a sentence, overwhelmed as she was by both the new information and the magnitude of Loki’s sacrifice for her. She had looked into his mind. She knew what a place on the throne of Jotunheim meant to him. It meant success, it meant power. It meant acceptance and belonging.

“Alice, do you know why I brought us here, to your old apartment?”

Still wiping her eyes, Alice shook her head no.

“I brought us here because it reminds me of when we first met. Of what you did for me.”

“You would have been fine even if I hadn’t picked you up from the hospital, Loki. You’re resilient,” she said through her undignified sniffs.

“I didn’t necessarily need you to provide for my physical needs, no,” Loki said, dragging her legs over his lap and pulling her into his chest. “But you were the first person in years who showed me pure, unadulterated compassion. The first person to only give and expect nothing in return. I believe if I had not met you when I did, it is entirely possible I could have followed a much different path.”

“I think… I think you would have figured it out,” she said into his chest, wishing vaguely that he’d worn a soft dress shirt instead of his leather armor. He always seemed to pick this outfit when he was doing something important, though.

“Perhaps,” he said. “Perhaps I would have found my way on my own, or perhaps someone else could have helped me. But it was you, and I am glad.”

Loki’s fingers found Alice’s chin, and gently he lifted her face to his, blue eyes meeting brown.

“Will you marry me?”

He held out his other hand and opened his palm, revealing a simple golden ring.

Alice stared at the ring in utter shock for a long moment. When her tongue finally caught up with her brain, she could barely form comprehensible words.

“Uh, I, uh… Loki are-”

“Please do not ask me if I am sure. I am. I only want to hear your answer.”

Loki set the ring down in the palm of Alice’s hand, and Alice felt the weight of it much stronger than its small form implied. She had never really thought she would marry again after Andy, but this felt… surprisingly right. The past year or so of their relationship had worked remarkably well. Alice helped Loki to be more selfless and empathetic, and Loki helped Alice to push herself and achieve more of her potential. They enjoyed each other's company, disagreed in productive and healthy ways, and fit uncommonly well into each other’s lives.

Loki was very different from Andy, but that was how it was supposed to be, wasn’t it? It wasn’t like she was looking for a replacement. She was just looking for a bit of happiness. Alice’s fingers closed around the ring, and she looked up into Loki’s hopeful gaze, finding her bit of happiness right there.

“I will.”


End file.
